IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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"hciDgraphic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STUBBT 

WBBSTER.N.Y.  145S0 

(716)872-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 

t 

The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 

L'Institut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  exemplaire 

original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 

qu'il  lui  a  6X6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 

copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique. 

de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 

which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 

point  de  vue  bibliographique.  qui  peuvent  modifier 

1 

reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 

une 

image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 

P 

the  usual  r^iethod  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 

modification  dans  la  mithode  normale  de  filmage 

0 

sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 

f 

1      1    Coloured  covers/ 

Couverture  de  couleur 

Coloured  pages/ 

f 

Pages  de  couleur 

C 
t 

Covers  damaged/ 
1 — 1    Couverture  endommagie 

^— 

Pages  damaged/ 

t 
s 

Pages  endommag^es 

0 

1      1    Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pellicul6e 

^— 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

f 
s 

Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pelliculies 

o 

Cover  title  missing/ 
1 1    Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

M 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

Pages  d6color6es,  tacheties  ou  piqu6es 

1      1    Coloured  maps/ 

1 — 1    Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 

_L 

Pages  detached/ 

T 

Pages  ddtachies 

s 

T 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
1 — 1    Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

— 

Showthrough/ 

v\ 

Transparence 

IV 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
1— — 1    Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

u\ 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 

d 

Quality  inigale  de  I'impression 

b 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
-    Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 

D 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 

ri 
re 

Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

m 

1      1    Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

1 — 

Only  edition  available/ 

Saule  Edition  disponible 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 

distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int6rieure 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 

slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 

ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 

Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 

have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 

obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure. 

II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 

etc.,  ont  6x6  filmAes  6  nouveau  de  fapon  6 

lors  d'une  restauratlon  apparaissent  dans  le  texte. 

obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 

pas  6t6  fiimies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplAmentaires; 

This  Item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

/ 

/ 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

University  of  Victoria 
McPherson  Library 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considerirj  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustr?ted  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —^(meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
gdnirosit^  de: 

University  of  Victoria 
McPherson  Library 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t4  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimde  sont  filmis  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmds  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — •►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symboie  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film6s  ^  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

POPULAR    IS^OVELS. 

BY  MAY  AGNKS  FLEMING. 


3.- 

4. 

5. 

C. 
f» 
1. 

8. 

0. 

10. 

n. 

12. 
13. 
H. 
15. 
16. 


-OUT  EARLacOUnX'S  WIFE. 
-A  VVONDKUrUI-  WOMAN. 
-A  TKRRIBI.K  S[<:CUKT. 
-»ORINK'.S  I{KVKN(iE. 
-A  MAI)  MAKRIAOK, 
-ONE  NrtiHTS  -MYSTERY. 
-KATE  DANTON. 
-SILENT  AND  TRUE. 
-HEIR  OK  CHARLTON. 
-CARRIED  nY  STORM. 
-LOST  FOR  A  WOMAN. 
-A  WIFE'S  TRAGEDY. 
-A  CnANGED  HEART. 
-PRIDE  AND  PASSION. 
-SHAltINO   IIER  CRIME. 
-A  WUON(iED  WIFE    (.\Vw). 


"Mrs.  Plcmin^'i'  ntorios  nrc  ixrowiiif;  more  and  more 
popniar  every  day.    Tlicir  dclinpntlons  of  character, 
llfe-likn   coiivcrHiiiioiiB,   flaslics  of   wit,  con- 
stantly varyiiii?  ("ccncsi,  and  d«oply  Intcr- 
cstiiiR  plots,    combine    to    place 
tlu^ir  atillior  in  the  very 
first  rank  of  Modern 
Novclii^ts." 


All  published  miiform  with  this  volume.    Price,  $1..50 
each,  and  sent  free  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price, 


BY 


G.   W.  CARLETON  k  CO.,   Publishers, 
New  York. 


WPtONGED   WIFE, 


^  Jfoucl. 


BT 


MAY   AGNES   FLEMING, 


ACTiion  OF 


OUT    KAIlLSCOUnT's   WITR,"    "a    WONDICRFCf-    WOMAN" 
A     TEIIRIULE     8ECURT."     "  SILENT     AND     TllUE  "      ' 
"A  MAD  MAnUIAGE,"  "  LOST  FOR  A  WOMAN  "' 
"one  monr's  MYSTERY,"    ETC.,  ETC.      ' 


"What  will  not  woman,  gentle  woman  dare, 
When  strong  aflfection  stirs  her  spirit  up  ?" 


Southey, 


<&t 


NEW     YORK: 

COPYRIGHT,    1883,   BV 

G.   IV.  Carleton  &  Co.,   Publishers,  > 

LONDON  :     S.    LOW    A    CO. 

MDCCCLXXXIII.  » 


L6H  VHG 


Stereotyped  by 

Samuel  Stoudbb, 

00  Ann  Stueet. 

N.  Y. 


OONTEN-TS. 

ORAFTKR  pj^Qj 

I.  The  Man  in  the  Cloak 7 

II.  A  Christmas  Gift 20 

III.  The  Brothers 42 

IV,  The  Apple  of  Discord 62 

V.  The  Hazel  woods  at  Home 76 

VI.    The  Wcdding-niglit 88 

VII.   The  Tragedy  Blackcus 107 

VIH.    The  Last  Dark  Scene 12.5 

IX.  A  Revelation  135 

X.  Stolen 148 

XI.   Eve 1G5 

XII.    The  Pension nairi's' Fete  180 

XIII.   Tlie  End  of  the  Fele 107 

[V] 


▼i  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAOa 

XIV.    A  Tempest  in  a  Teapot 210 

XV.   Eve'8  First  Proposal 229 

XVI.    Ilazelwood  Ilall . .  248 

XVII.    Two  Old  Friends 207 

XVIII.   Eve's  Second  Proposal 280 

XIX.  A  Moonlight  Interview 800 

XX.   A  Stormy  Day.. 316 

XXI.    Black  Monk's 829 

XXII.   TLe  Cloud 849 

XXIII.  The  Silver  Lin'ng 856 

XXIV.  Measure  for  Measure 303 

XXV.  The  Story  Told  in  the  Deathroom 875 

XXVI.   Jubilate! 387 

XXVII.   APurtingPcep 400 


WEONGED    WIFE. 


CUAPTER    I. 


THE  MAN   IN  THE   CLOAK. 


HE  drear  and  dark  December  day  was  ending 
in  a  drearier  and  darker  ovening.  A  bitter 
frost  blackened  tlie  earth,  wrathful  clouds 
blackened  the  sky,  leafless  trees  rattle  i  their  skeleton- 
arms  in  the  long  and  lamentable  blast,?,  and  the  river, 
rolling  along,  turbid  and  troubled,  tossed  its  black 
Bnrgcs  and  moaned  dismally  up  on  tlie  black  sands. 
Ererything  looked  ghastly  and  dismal,  in  the  gray,' 
spcctnsl  twilight ;  the  lonely  little  river-sido  village 
lying  lifeless  under  the  gaunt,  stripped  trees ;  the  long, 
lonesome  country  road,  winding  in  and  out  among  de- 
serted fields  and  soddy  marshes  ;  the  bleak  hills  in  the 


8 


THE    MAN    IN   THE    CLOAK. 


I 


background,  and  the  bleaker  sandy  level  in  the  fore- 
ground, with  nothing  of  life  near  but  the  solitary  little 
way-station,  on  wJiosc  i)latform  a  rod  light  burned. 

Of  all  lonely  way-stations,  undisturbed  from  dawn 
to  dark  except  when  the  train  came  screaming  through, 
there  could  scarcely  be  found  one  lonelier  than  the 
little  station  in  the  sandy  level  at  the  village  of  Ilivcr- 
side.  In  the  pleasant  summer-time,  when  the  sun 
shone  on  the  white  sands,  the  cows  grazed  in  the  grass 
meadows,  and  the  birds  sang  in  the  waving  trees,  it  was 
a  pleasant  spot  enough ;  but  now,  with  the  December 
snow  falling  ghostly  around  it,  you  miglit  have  searched 
long  before  you  could  find  a  more  solitary  or  deserted 
spot.  In  suramei'-time,  the  train  from  the  city  never 
arrived  without  stopping  to  set  down  sporting  young 
Gothamites,  armed  with  fisliing-rods  and  tackle  ;  for 
Riverside  was  famous  for  trout  and  pretty  girls,  and 
young  New  Yorkers  found  it  a  very  enlivening  way  to 
pass  the  dogdays,  angling  for  one  and  making  love  to 
the  other.  But  in  December,  when  tlic  trout  streams 
were  ice-bound,  the  pretty  girls  unwilling  to  redden 
their  dear  little  noses  by  exposure  to  Jack  Frost's 
kisses,  and  the  opera  and  tlicatcr  in  full  blast  in  the 
Empire  City,  young  New  York  stayed  at  home,  and  the 


THE    MAN   IN    THE 


.OAK. 


train  passed  tlirough,  cvciiiug  after  evening,  without 
landing  anyone  at  the  lonesome  station. 

On  this  particular  December  evening,  the  clerk  sat 
in  his  little  den,  witli  one  or  two  especial  friends,  smok- 
ing clay  pipes,  while  waiting  for  tlie  last  down  train. 
A  few  passengers  sat  in  tho  waiting-room,  reading  the 
"Riverside  Mercury,"  or  talking,  to  while  away  the 
tedious  interval,  or  looking  at  the  snow  falling  in 
feathery  Hakes  on  the  frost-blackened  ground.  The 
cylinder-stoves  in  the  clerk's  office  and  waiting-room 
were  heated  red  hot,  and  the  lamps  were  llaring  cheer- 
ful defiance  to  the  growing  gloom  without. 

"I  say,  Mr.  Station-master,  ain't  the  cars  late  to- 
night ?"  asked  a  burly  passenger,  putting  his  head  in 
at  the  office-window. 

Tho  clerk  looked  at  tho  little  clock  fastened  to  the 
wall,  and  took  his  pipe  from  between  his  lips. 

"  It's  only  half-past  four.  Sir  ;  they'll  be  along 
directly.     Oh,  here  they  come  now." 

Everything  was  in  commotion  dirccdy.  Everybody 
was  on  his  feet ;  overcoats  were  donned,  carpet-bags 
and  valises  were  seized,  and  a  general  stampede  made 
for  tho  platform.  With  the  unearthly  yell  of  a  demon, 
the  expected  train  rushed  in  and  stopped,  and  the  faces 


10 


THE    MAN    m    TIIK    CLOAK. 


of  the  passengers  looked  out  through  the  steamed  and 
blurred  windows  ut  the  Riverside  station.  The  people 
in  the  waiting-room  bustled  in  and  the  loafers  smoking 
with  the  clerk  watched  thom  go. 

**  Xo  one  for  Riverside,  I'll  be  bound,"  one  of  them 
said  ;  "city  folks  don't  think  it  worth  while  to  stop  at 
our  village  when  the  cold  weather  comes." 

The  si)eakor  was  mistaken.  Before  ho  had  ceased 
speaking,  a  man  stepped  from  the  cars  on  the  platform, 
and  entered  the  waiting-room  to  light  a  cigar.  With 
another  frightful  shriek  the  train  sped  on  its  way,  and 
the  clerk  and  his  friends  came  in  out  of  tho  cold  win- 
ter-air to  the  warm  inlluence  of  the  red-hot  cylin- 
ders. 

The  traveler  who  had  stopped  was  tall  and  com- 
manding of  figure,  with  the  unmistakable  air  and  bear- 
ing of  a  gentlenuxn.  IIo  was  young,  too,  and  very 
good-looking  ;  and  the  long  traveling-cloak  he  wore, 
with  its  deep-furred  collar,  became  his  fine  form  well. 
A  fur  cap  was  pulled  over  his  eyes  ;  and  as  ho  drew  off 
one  of  his  warm  traveling-gloves,  the  clerk  and  his 
friends  had  their  eyes  dazzled  by  the  blaze  of  a  dia- 
mond ring  on  a  hand  white  and  shapely  as  a  lady's. 
His  sole  journeying-equipage  seemed  to  consist  of  hia 


TJIE    MAN    IN    THE    CLOAK. 


11 


cigar-case,  from  whicli  he  leisurely  selected  a  weed,  and 
lit  it  at  one  of  the  flaring  Iuik'^s. 

"  A  sliarp  niglit,  sir,"  Mn  clerk  suggested  respect- 
fully, a  lilUe  awed  by  the  striking  figure  and  flas  liug 
diamond,  "won't  you  sit  down  and  take  an  air  ol  l)io 
fire  ?" 

"  I  m  not  cold,  thank  you,"  the  tall  stranger  said, 
pulling  out  a  superb  gold  hunting-watch,  and  glancing 
at  the  hour.  "  Twenty  minutes  to  five,  and  dark  al- 
rc;i(ly  !     Good  night  to  you." 

Drawing  on  his  glove  again,  and  puffing  away  ener- 
getically the  gentleman  walked  out  of  the  waiting-room. 
'J'lio  clerk  and  his  friends  went  to  the  window  and 
looked  out  after  him — in  the  gloom  of  the  winter-night 
they  could  see  him  striding  through  the  falling  snow, 
with  tremendous  sweep  of  limb,  in  the  direction  of  the 
village. 

"An  uncommon  swell,  that,"  one  of  them  said, 
going  back  to  the  stove.  "  Did  you  notice  that  ere  ring 
on  his  little  finger  ?  It  cost  a  few  dimes,  did  that 
llushcr,  I've  a  notion." 

"What  brings  him  to  Riverside,  I  wonder,"  re- 
marked another.      "There's  no  fishing  or   partridge- 


12 


THE    MAN    IN    THE     CLOAK. 


shooting  now,  and  ho  looks  too  grand  to  come  on  any 
otiicr  business." 

'' Sooms  to  mo  I've  seen  that  young  chap  before," 
Bald  tlieelerk,  meditating.  "  It  ain't  his  first  visit  to 
Riverside,  or  he'd  nevei'  know  the  road  to  the  village  so 
well.  ShouM  like  to  know  where  he's  going  when  he 
gets  tlicrc." 

"To  the  Gulden  Swan,  most  likely,"  said  the  first 
speaker.  "Go  on  with  that  story  you  were  telling  us, 
Johnson,  when  the  train  came  in." 

The  '•  Golden  Swan"  was  the  only  hotel  in  River- 
side, and  the  gentleman's  suggestions  were  correct :  it 
was  to  tliat  establishment  the  stranger  went.  It  was 
nearly  a  mile  from  the  station  to  the  hotel,  over  the  bleak- 
est of  roads,  with  thegliostly  snow  falling  noiselessly  and 
the  winter-wind  rattling  tiirough  the  bare  trees,  but  the 
young  man  walked  on,  heeding  the  cold  and  the  darkness 
very  little,  straight  to  where  the  red  light  streamed  out 
from  the  crimson  curtained  Avindows  of  the  bar-room. 
As  Je  opened  the  door  unceremoniously,  the  blaze  of 
illumination  from  lamp  and  tire  dazzled  him  for  a  mo- 
ment accustomed  as  he  had  become  to  the  outer  dark- 
ness. Some  half-dozen  men,  with  the  landlord  at  their 
head,  playing  cards  round  a  table,  looked  up,  and  stared 


Tllh]    MAN    7.V    THE     CLOAK. 


13 


cniiously  at  tlic  new-comer,  who  was  stamping  the  snow 
oH  his  hoots  in  the  doorway. 

"Good  evening,  stranger,"  tlie  landlord  said,  laying 
down  his  cards  and  standing  up.  "  Walk  in  and  take  a 
chair." 

'TU  take  something  more  snhstantial,  Mr.  Jarvis." 
answered  the  stranger,  advancing;  "my  supper,  if  you 
have  no  objection.  Traveling  such  a  night  as  this  is 
hungry  business." 

The  landlord  looked  puzzled  and  curious.  "You 
seem  to  know  me,  sir,"  he  said,  eyeing  the  tall  stranger 
in  the  cloak.  "You  have  the  advantage  of  me,  for  I 
don't  know  your  name." 

"You  used  io,  then,"  said  the  young  man,  "and 
not  St)  long  ago,  cither." 

He  lifted  his  f  cap  as  he  spoke,  and  Mr.  Jarvis 
gave  a  shout  of  recognition  at  sight  of  his  handsome 
face,  and  came  forward  with  extended  hand. 

"  Bless  my  heart,  Captain,  is  it  you  ?  Who'd  ever 
thought  of  seeing  you  here  at  this  time  o'  year  ?  How 
uncommon  well  you  are  looking,  too." 

"  Thank  you,  Jarvis  ;  I  feel  tolerahle  well,  I  allow. 
How  is  ^Irs.  Jarvis  and  pretty  Lizzie  ?" 

"  First-rate,  Cap'n,  and  rare  glad  they'll  bo  to  see 


14 


THE    MAN    m   THE    CLOAK. 


you,  too.  I  say,  old  woman,"  Mr.  Jarvis  yelled,  put- 
ting liis  head  in  at  an  open  door,  from  which  issued  a 
powerful  odor  of  fried  hum  and  a  clatter  of  cups  and 
saucers,  "  and  you,  Liz,  come  and  see  who's  here." 

A  dumpy  little  woman,  with  a  white  muslin  cap  and 
brass-rimmod  spectacles,  followed  by  a  dumpy  little 
damsel,  with  rosy  checks  and  bare,  plump  arms,  re- 
sponded to  this  call,  bearing  the  odor  of  ham  and  tea 
in  every  fold  of  their  check  ajirons  and  gingham  gowns. 
Mrs.  Jarvis  gave  a  little  cry,  and  Lizzie  uttered  an  ex- 
clamation at  sight  of  the  visitor,  who  stood,  chapeau 
in  hand,  smiling  before  them. 

"  Land  of  hope  1  Cap'n  Forrest,"  Mrs.  Jarvis 
shrilly  cried,  "  where  on  airth  did  you  drop  from,  this 
time  o'  night  ?" 

"  I  knew  she'd  bo  flabbergasted  on  sight  o'  you," 
remarked  Mr.  Jarvis,  nodding  delightedly.  "Lizzie, 
why  don't  you  come  over  and  shake  hands  with  Cap'n 
Forrest  ?" 

Lizzie,  her  rosy  cheeks  considerably  rosier  than  their 
wont,  came  shyly  forward,  holding  out  a  plump  hand, 
which  the  good-looking  young  captain  shook  with  a 
warmth  a  trifle  greater  than  he  had  given  to  papa  and 
mumma. 


THE    MAN    IN   THE    CLOAK. 


16 


"Very  glial  to  see  you  again,  Lizzio,  jiud  as  bloom- 
ing as  ever,  too,  I  couldu" t  forget  yon,  you  see,"  low- 
ering his  voice,  and  giving  the  ))lump  hand  a  parting 
squeeze,  "  and  so  had  to  come  back  to  Riverside." 

"And  how's  all  the  other  young  gentlemen,  Cap'n, 
and  Avhcre  have  jou  been  ever  since  last  summer?" 
inquired  Jlrs.  Jarvis,  dusting  a  chair  with  her  apron 
for  him  to  sit  down. 

"They  were  all  well  when  I  left  them,  Mrs.  Jarvis  ; 
and  as  for  me,  I  have  been  knocking  about  the  world 
in  my  old  vagabond  style,  never  very  long  anywliere," 

"And  you  haven't  gone  back  to  England,  yet  ?" 

Captaiu  Forrest  laughed,  displaying  a  set  of 
brilliant  Avhite  teeth. 

"I  have  not  gone  back  to  England,  yet.  I  like 
New  York  too  well  for  that.  But,  ^[rs.  Jarvis,  I'm 
hungry,  and  smell  cooking  within  there,  so — " 

lie  made  a  lauglnng  motion  to  enter,  and  all  the 
hostess  was  aroused  in  dumpy  little  Mrs.  Jarvis  at  once. 

"To  be  sure,  Cap'u  ;  to  be  sure.  AVhatever  could 
I  be  thinking  of,  not  to  know  you  must  bo  hungry. 
Come  right  in,  and  you'll  have  your  supper  in  five 
minutes.  Lizzie,  run  and  look  after  those  biscuits. 
I  expect  the  ham's  burned  to  a  crisp  by  this  time." 


IC 


THE    MAN    IN    THE    CLOAK. 


Lizzie  and  her  aiotlier  flew  back  to  the  inner  apart- 
ment, and  Captain  Forrest  lingered  for  a  moment  tc 
epealc  to  mine  host. 

"I  am  going  back  to  New  York  by  the  up-train, 
Jarvis,  what  time  does  it  pass  ?" 

"Nine  o'clock,  Cap'n ;  but  ain't  you  goin'  to  stay 
all  night?" 

"Can't,  unfortunately.  I  came  down  on  business. 
Can  you  have  the  gig  in  readiness  by  the  time  I  get 
through  supper  ?  I  have  a  few  miles  to  go,  and  shall 
not  stop  this  way  again.  I  can  leave  it  in  charge  of  the 
clerk  at  the  railway  station." 

"  Certainly,  Cap'n ;  but  I  should  like  to  have  you 
stay.  It's  too  bad  you  should  leave  us  in  such  a 
hurry." 

"The   loss  is   mine,    Mr.    Jarvis;    nothing  would 
give  me  more  pleasure  than  staying,  but  business  befo  . 
pleasure,  you  know." 

"I  did  not  think  Captain  Forrest  ever  had  any 
weightier  business  tlian  fooling  silly  girls,"  said  Mr. 
Jarvis,  with  knowing  eyes  ;  and  the  handsome  young 
Captain  laughed. 

"  I'm  a  reformed  character,  Mr.  Jarvis ;  don't  look 


THE    MAN   IN   THE    OLOAK. 


17 


so  dubious,  it's  the  truth,  I  assure  you.  And  now  for 
something  to  satisfy  the  inner  man." 

Throwing  his  cloak  over  the  back  of  a  chair,  and 
his  cap  and  gloves  thereon,  he  strolled  into  the  next 
room,  humming  an  air.  The  moment  his  back  was 
turned,  Mr.  Jarvis  was  besieged  with  questions. 

"I  don't  known  much  about  him,"  that  gentleman 
said,  resuming  his  scat  and  his  cards,  *'  except  that  ho 
is  an  uncommon  fine  young  gentleman,  ready  to  spend 
money  like  a  prince.  He  came  here  last  summer  with 
a  lot  of  other  young  gentlemen,  to  fish  and  shoot,  and 
stopped  with  us  for  three  weeks.  Ilis  name  is  Captain 
Forrest,  and  he  is  an  Englishman,  more's  the  pity  ;  and 
that's  everything  I  know  about  him.  Dobson,  tho 
deal's  yours." 

While  Mr.  Dobson  shufSed  tho  cards  and  Mr. 
Jarvis  summoned  his  only  servant  to  him,  who  was  eat- 
ing peanuts  and  overlooking  the  game,  to  go  out  and 
fetch  the  gig  and  mare,  tho  young  gentleman,  whoso 
biography  he  had  been  giving  them,  was  seated  before 
a  taljle,  laden  with  tea  and  toast,  ham  and  eggs,  home- 
made cake  and  pies,  discussing  tho  viands  with  the 
appetite  of  a  hungry  traveler,  while  good-natured  littlo 
Mrs.  Jarvis  stood  with  her  fat  hands  on  her  fat  sides, 


18 


THE    MAN    IN   THE    CLOAK. 


overlooking  tlio  performance  with  a  face  beaming 
"with  hospitable  delight. 

"And  so  Riverside  is  the  same  old  story,"  Captain 
Forrest  was  saying;  "no  changes  at  all,  I  suppose? 
Nobody  dead  or  married,  or  left  or  settled,  eh  ?" 

"Notman}^,  Capt'n  ;  folks  when  they  settle  down 
here  don't  care  to  leave,  and  new  folks  don't  much 
care  to  come.  Try  the  pie.  I  made  it  myself,  and 
I  know  it  is  good." 

**  It  must  be  if  you  made  it.  And  so  there  have 
been  no  changes  at  all  ?" 

Lizzie  turned  round  from  the  cookstove  over 
which  she  was  bending,  with  a  scarlet  face. 

"There's  some  folks  moved  into  one  of  them  doll 
houses  on  the  marsh  lately,  mother.  Ain't  you  heard 
of  them  ?" 

Mrs.  Jarvis  turned  up  her  nose. 

"  Oh,  they're  of  no  account.  They  must  be  poor  as 
Job's  turkey,  whoever  they  are,  or  they  wouldn't  live 
there.  Have  another  cup  of  tea,  Capt'n,  and  try  the 
cake." 

"I  daresay  they're  poor  enough,"  said  Lizzie,  going 
on  with  her  cooking,  "but  the  young  woman  that's 
there  looks  like  a  lady,  and  everybody  says  so.     She's 


TEE    MAN    IN   THE    CLOAK. 


19 


handsomer  than  anybody  I  ever  saw  before  in  my 
life." 

"  What's  her  name?"  asked  Captain  Forrest,  looking 
interested. 

"  Nobody  knows.  They  came  a  few  weeks  ago, 
four  of  them — an  old  woman  and  a  young  one  and  two 
children.  It's  the  young  woman  that's  so  handsome, 
and  tlie  two  children  ;  and  I  do  say  she  looks  like  a 
lady,  if  slie  is  poor." 

"  Has  she  ever  been  here  ?" 

*'  No  ;  she  don'c  go  out  much,  but  I've  seen  her  onco 
or  twice.  The  old  woman  comes  to  the  store  some- 
times for  things,  but  nobody  knows  her  name,  or  where 
they  come  from,  or  anything  about  them." 

"  And  I  don't  believe  they're  any  better  than  they 
ought  to  be,"  struck  in  Mrs.  Jarvis,  with  the  usual 
cliarity  of  her  sex ;  "  where  there's  secrecy  there's  guilt, 
that's  my  opinion.  Do  try  the  cakes,  Cap'u,  won't 
you?" 

"  Couldn't  possibly.  I  have  done  ample  justice  to 
your  good  things,  I  think,  Mrs.  Jarvis,  and  now  I  must 
bid  you  good-bye  and  be  off." 

Mrs.  Jarvis  protested  loudly,  and  Lizzie  looked  un- 
gpeakablo  things  under  her  eyelashes,  but  Captain  For- 


20 


THE    MAN    IN    THE    CLOAK. 


rest  wad  proof  against  both,  and  returned  to  the  bar- 
room, where  the  card  party  was  still  in  full  blast. 

"  The  boss  and  gig's  at  the  door,  Cap'n,"  Mr.  Jar- 
vis  said,  "but  I  don't  see  why  you  can't  come  back  am 
atop  with  us  a  week  or  so.     It  seems  kinder  bad  to 
have  you  come  one  moment  and  fly  off  the  next." 

'*  Can't  be  helped,  unfortunately,"  said  the  young 
man,  throwing  his  cloak  over  his  shoulder,  and  putting 
on  his  cap  and  gloves  ;  "good-bye,  Mrs.  Jarvis  ;  good- 
bye, Lizzie  ;  don't  get  married  till  I  come  back  again. 
There's  no  telling  but  I  may  take  a  fancy  to  have  a  wife 
one  of  these  days.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Jarvis,  a  thousand 
thanks  for  the  use  of  the  gig.  You'll  find  it  all  safe 
to-morrow  morning  at  the  station." 

Shaking  hands  all  round,  the  young  man  went  out, 
followed  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jarvis.  The  gig  stood  at  the 
door,  and  he  sprang  lightly  in,  seized  the  reins,  touched 
the  horse  with  the  whip,  and  shouting  a  last  good-bye, 
flew  off  and  was  lost  in  the  darkness  of  the  December 
night. 

The  snow  was  falling  rapidly  now  ;  and  the  road, 
running  between  rows  of  tall  black  trees,  looked  like  a 
silver  lino  set  in  ebony.  The  darkness  is  never  very 
dense  when  it  snows ;    and  though  neither  moon  nor 


THE    MAN    IN   THE    CLOAK. 


21 


etars  shone  to  show  him  the  way,  he  kept  the  horse  at 
full  speed,  and    rattled    rapidly  on  over  the   frosty 
ground.     His  ride  was  not  long  ;  half  an  hour  brought 
him  to  the  end  of  the  village,  and  the  end  of  his  jour- 
ney in  that  direction.    It  was  a  lonely  not  to  say  dismal 
spot  in  which  he  chose  to  alight ;  on  one  side,  the  river 
rolled  turbid  and  black  ;  on  the  other,  miry  marshes 
epread,  sloppy  and  sodden.     Before  him,  the  path  lost 
itself  in  a  frowning  cedar-wood,  a.  hero  murders  might 
have  been  committed  in  broad  day-light,  and  no  one  be 
the  iriser.     Yet,  dismal  as  the   marshes  were,  a  few 
wretched  houses  were  scattered  here  and  there,  from 
whose  crooked  chimneys  smoke  curled,  and  from  whose 
broken  windows  lights  gleamed.     Only  the  very  poor 
could  hare  remained  there,  and  fever  and  ague  must 
l>een  the  bosom-friends  of  their  wretched  inmates. 

The  handsome  young  English  captain,  with  the 
diamond  on  his  finger,  one  would  think  could  have 
little  H)  do  with  the  dwellers  in  such  a  place.  Yet  here 
he  choose  to  alight,  and,  tying  the  horse  to  a  trpe,  took 
a  survey  of  the  four  or  five  miprrable  dwellings  around. 
"  One  of  the  houses  in  the  marsh,  they  told  me,"  he 
Baid  to  himself.  "I  wonder  which  of  them  it  is  ;  per- 
haps 1  had  better  take  them  as  they  come." 


23 


THE    MAIf    IN  T3B    GLOAK. 


There  was  a  path  through  these  miry,  treachoroas 
marshes — ho  knew  it  well,  and  struck  into  it  at  once  ; 
for  in  the  snnny  days  gone  by  ho  had  wandered  there 
often,  with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder  and  his  dog  at  hiy 
heels.     It  led  him   straight  to  one  of  the  miserable 
dwellings — a  wretched  place,  with  tumble-dowu  chim- 
ney, rattling  doors,  broken  windows,  and  leaky  roof. 
Lights  shone  from  two  of  the  ruined  windows — very 
feebly  from  one  in  the  gable,  and  brighter  from  another 
in  front.     There  was  a  white  muslin  shade  over  each, 
but  so  short  and  torn  that  the  casements  they  adorned 
would  have  been  quite  as  well  without  them,  either  for 
ornament  or  use.     Standing  on  the  outside,  you  could 
see,   if  you  chose,  everything  going  on  within ;   and 
Captain  Forrest  evidently  found  the  view  interesting, 
for  he  stood  gazing  steadily  and  long    The  exterior  of 
the  building  was    wretched  enough,  but    the  interior 
was  wretched  in  the  extreme.    Abject  poverty  reared 
its  ghastly  head  everywhere  ;  it  stared  at  you  in  the 
rickety  chairs,  in  the  rough  deal  table,  in  the  rougher 
trundle-bed  in  tlie  corner,  its  miserable  straw  pallet 
covered  with  coarsest  bedding.     A  tallow  candle,  gut- 
tering in  a  dirty  brass  candlestick,  shed  tears  of  fat  on 
the  table  and  its  dim  red  light  on  the  two  women  who 


THE    MAN    ly    TllR    CLOAK. 


wore  the  only  inmates  of  tho  baro  nnd  cheerless  room. 
There  was  a  wood  fire,  smolclering  and  smoking  vi- 
ciously on  the  hearth  ;  and  they  sat  on  two  low  stools, 
facing  each  other,  one  in  each  corner.  From  tho  posi- 
tion in  which  ho  stood,  one  was  directly  facing  Captain 
Forrest,  tho  other  had  her  back  to  him.  Sho  whom  ho 
saw  was  old,  ngly,  hideously  wrinkled,  wretchedly  clad, 
and  was  emulating  tho  chimney  by  puffing  forth  clouds 
of  smoke  from  a  short,  blackened  clay  pipe.  Tho 
other,  with  her  back  to  him,  appeared  youthful  of 
figure  ;  and  a  great  clond  of  golden  hair,  such  as  we 
see  in  pictures  of  Mary  Magdalene,  hung  loose  and  dis- 
ordered over  her  shoulders  and  down  her  back.  Her 
dress  was  as  poor  as  that  of  tlio  other ;  and  she  cow- 
ered over  tho  fire,  in  a  strange  attitude  of  pain. 

It  was  a  gloomy  picture  Captain  Forrest  saw, 
whether  he  looked  within  or  without;  the  bad  black 
night;  tho  ghastly  white  snow,  ever  falling,  falling; 
the  bleak  and  lonesome  marshes,  tho  dismal  night  sky, 
and  more  dismal  river,  roaring  sullenly  along,  the 
empty  and  comfortless  room,  and  tho  two  lonely 
watchers  over  the  smoky  fire.  No  wonder  he  turned 
away  with  something  of  the  surrounding  gloom  darken- 
ing his  face.  -  •    . 


24 


THE    MAN   IN    THE    CLOAK. 


L\ 


"It  is  hor  own  fault,"  ho  said,  frowning;  "why 
will  sho  be  a  fool  ?  But  now  for  tho  children — there  ia 
no  time  to  lose." 

Ho  turned  to  the  side-window,  from  which  tho 
feebler  light  shone,  and  looked  in  us  he  had  done  at  the 
other. 

Here  there  was  neither  fire  nor  furniture,  only 
another  trundle-bed  in  u  corner,  and  another  tallow- 
candle,  with  a  long  red  wick,  flaming  on  the  floor. 

Evidently  ho  had  found  what  he  wanted,  for  ho 
tried  tho  window — it  opened  easily,  and  ho  stepped  into 
the  chamber.  On  the  trundle-bed  two  children  lay 
asleep,  their  peaceful  faces  looking  up  through  a  tan- 
gled profusion  of  black  curling  hair.  He  scarcely 
stopped  an  instant  to  look  at  them  ;  but  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  bottle  and  sponge,  poured  some  of  the  contents 
of  the  one  on  t-ic  other,  and  held  it  to  tho  nostrils  of 
tho  sleeping  children.  The  breathing  deepened  ;  the 
sweet  slumber  of  infancy  was  changed  to  a  heavy, 
death-like  insensibility,  and  the  young  man  replaced 
his  bottle  und  sponge. 

"  What  a  blessing  chloroform  is,  judiciously  admin- 
istered !"  he  muttered.  "I  don't  think  they  will  give 
much  trouble  for  the  next  two  hours.     Now  then !" 


THE    MAN    IN    THE    CLOAK. 


25 


Tlicro  was  m  qniU.  or  bliinkot  over  the  poor  little 
bed,  only  a  heavy  plaid  shawl,  gaudy  once,  but  faded 
and  threadbare  now.  The  young  man  wrapped  the  lit- 
tle forms  closely  in  its  ample  folds,  took  them  easily  in 
his  arms,  and  stepped  out  through  the  window,  closed 
it  softly,  and  without  waiting  to  cast  one  parting  glance 
bcliind,  made  for  his  gig  on  the  roadside. 

Taking  his  seat  with  the  children  on  his  knee,  shel- 
tered from  the  cold  and  storm  by  his  fur-lined  cloak, 
ho  started  o£E  at  a  break-neck  pace  for  the  railway- 
station. 

Tlie  last  up-train  was  just  dashing  in  as  he  reached 
it,  and  he  had  barely  time  to  secure  his  ticket  and  leave 
Mr.  Jarvis's  property  in  charge  of  the  clerk,  before  it 
tore  off  again,  shrieking  like  a  demon.  lie  had  the 
children,  both  rolled  up  together  in  tlie  shawl,  under 
liis  cloak.  The  sleepy  passengers  scarcely  looked  at 
liini  us  lie  took  his  scat,  and  in  ten  minutes  Riverside 
and  the  house  on  the  marsh  were  far  behind,  and  ho 
and  his  sleeping  prize  were  flying  along  to  the  city. 


A     CHRISTMAS     GIFT. 


CHAPTER  II. 


A    CHRISTMAS    GIFT. 


milSTMxVS  evo,  ami  a  cold,  clear  night. 
Bright  stars  shining  in  a  blue  wintry  sky,  a 
crescent  moon  threading  its  silvery  way  up 
the  blue-black  concave,  whore  the  con.stcllations  were 
flaming  ;  a  clear,  bright,  bracing  night,  full  of  promise 
of  a  cloudless  coming  day.  Christmas  eve,  and  Broad- 
way crowded.  All  gaslight,  and  glitter,  and  throbbing 
life  ;  every  shop  window  a  picture  at  which  you  might 
stand  entranced  ;  cars  and  stages,  Avith  their  brilliant 
colored  lights,  flashing  up  and  down  like  overgrown 
fire-flies  ;  the  pavement  crowded  with  pedestrians, 
pushing,  elbowing,  jostling ;  for  Christmas  eve  comes 
but  once  a  year,  and  the  veriest  miser  must  unloose  his 
purse  before  the  tempting  stores. 

A  man  buttoned  up  to  the  chin  in  an  overcoat  of 
sealskin,  with  a  scarlet  comforter  wound  about  his  neck, 
and  a  crush  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes,  strode  along  through 
the  surging  sea  of  life,  pushing  and  jostling  with  the 
best  in  his  hurry,  but  never  stopping  as  the  other  folk 
did  to  enter  the  toyshops  and  confectionery  and  jewelry 


A     CHRISTMAS    GIFT. 


27 


stores.  No  ;  this  man  eyed  all  such  places,  as  he  trot- 
ted by  tlicin,  with  a  sidelong  glance  of  sour  disdain,  and 
pursued  the  even  tenor  of  his  way  for  a  mile  or  so  up 
the  thronged  thorouglifare.  He  stopped  at  last  under  a 
street  lamp,  and  pulled  a  card  out  of  his  pocket,  which 
ho  perused  with  deliberation  by  the  aid  of  a  pair  of  old- 
fashioned,  silver-rimmed  spectacles.  He  was  a  little 
man,  you  could  see  ;  thin  and  dark  of  face  ;  with  small, 
piercing  eyes ;  lliin,  compressed,  cynical  lips,  and  a 
rapid,  energetic  way  of  doing  even  tlio  smallest  thing, 
that  would  have  made  a  quiet  person  nervous  to  behold. 

"Number — ,  Fiftli  avenue,"  tlic  little  man  read 
from  the  card.  "I  ought  to  bo  near  the  place 
now." 

Turning  out  of  bustling  Broadway,  he  made  for  the 
qnicU'r  avenue  beside  it,  and  walked  along  that  aristo- 
cratic place,  looking  at  the  numbers  on  the  houses  as  ho 
wont.  A  few  minutes  rapid  walking,  and  he  drew  rein 
before  a  stately  brown-stone  front,  with  two  lamps 
burning  in  front  of  its  aristocratic  portal.  On  the  silver 
doorplate  was  inscribed  the  name  "  Hazelwood  ";  and 
the  little  man  in  the  sealskin  overcoat  and  red  woolen 
comforter,  nothing  awoil  by  its  magnificence,  ran  boldly 
up  the  stops  and  rang  a  stirring  reveille.     A  young  man 


28 


A     CHRISTMAS     GIFT. 


in  livery  auswereJ  tlio  smnmons,  and  stared  supercili- 
ously at  the  crush  hat  and  sealskin  coat. 

*'Is  Mr.  Hazel  wood  at  home  ?"  asked  the  little  man, 
in  a  sharp,  quick,  imperative  voice,  no  more  awed  by 
the  tall  young  man  in  livery  than  ho  had  been  by  the 
imposing  exterior  of  the  mansion. 

"Yes,  he  is,"  said  tlic  tall  young  man;  "but  I 
rather  think  he  is  engaged.  Did  you  want  to  see 
him?" 

"  Give  him  that,"  replied  the  little  man,  shortly, 
pulling  out  a  card.  "Ill  wait  hero  until  you  come 
back." 

It  was  no  gilt  and  glittering  visiting-card,  but  a 
veritable  piece  of  pasteboard,  with  "Jeremiah  Lance" 
written  on  it  in  a  stifl;,  cramped  hand.  Tlie  young 
man  in  livery  looked  at  it  dubiously,  and  tlien  at  its 
owner,  whose  peculiar  brilliant  e3'e3  were  beginning  to 
flash  r'<,ther  ominously  behind  his  lunettes.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  iiery  brightening  of  his  glance  that  taught 
the  tall  young  men  he  had  better  do  as  bo  was  ordered  ; 
80  he  turned  away  with  a  slow  and  stately  step,  leaving 
the  visitor  in  the  doorway. 

He  could  see  a  grand  entrance-hall  with  corniced 
ceiling,  its  walls  adorned  with  rich  paintings  and  pretty 


A    onarsTMAs   or  ft. 


d» 


statuc3,  lit  wit.h  l)l;izing  cl'a.s'A'rs  of  gas  ;  a  wide  marble 
staircase,  with  gilded  railing,  going  up  in  great  sweep-s 
to  tlic  regions  above  ;  and  the  warmth  coming  delight- 
fully up  through  the  register  (hat  cold  December 
night.  Before  the  dark  l)right  eyes  behind  the  spec- 
tacles had  done  noting  all  tliis,  the  tall  young  man  re- 
turned, and  behind  him  a  tall  old  man,  with  a  hand- 
some, fresh-colored  face,  white  hair  and  beard  falling 
over  a  rich  Turkish  dressing-gown  of  many  colors,  slip- 
pers on  feet,  smoking-eap  on  liead,  a  smile  of  cordial 
welcome  on  his  lip?,  and  his  baud  extended  in  warm 
greeting. 

"  }.Iy  dear  old  fellow!  'My  dear  Lance  I  what  a 
pleasant  surprise  for  Chrislmas  eve!  Conio  in!  come 
in  !  who  in  (he  world  would  ever  have  thought  of  see- 
ing you  !'' 

The  tall  young  man  receded  into  tho  back-gronnd 
rpiite  cowed,  and  tho  little  man  suffered  his  hand  to  bo 
shaken,  and  himself,  red  comforter  and  all,  to  bo  drawn 
in,  wilh  constitutional  i)hlegm. 

"  How  well  you  arc  looking,  too,  not  the  least 
changed  since  wc  parted  ten  years  ago  1  Take  off  your 
hat  and  overcoat  and  ct)me  up  stairs." 

By  tho  aid  of  tho  tall  young  man  tho  visitor,  who  nil 


80 


A     CHRISTMAS    GIFT. 


this  timo  had  sjioken  never  a  word,  was  divested  of  his 
outer  garnieufc,  aud  stood  under  the  gasjets  in  a  decent 
suit  of  black  broadcloth,  a  bald-headed,  keen-looking 
gentleman,  of  some  forty-five  or  fifty  years. 

"  This  way,  Lance,"  Mr.  Hazelwood  said,  leading 
the  way  up  the  grand  staircase.  "  Of  all  men  in  the 
world  you  are  the  one  I  most  wanted  to  see,  to-night ! 
What  will  the  boys  say  at  sight  of  their  old  tutor  ?" 

"Are  all  your  sons  at  home,  Mr.  Hazelwood?" 
asked  the  visitor.  "I  heard  some  of  them  had  gone 
abroad." 

"  Conway  has ;  Conway's  inclined  to  be  a  rolling 
stone,  I  am  afraid,  and  will  never  gather  much  moss. 
Ho  has  made  the  grand  tour — come  right  in  this  way, 
Lance — and  goes  moving  from  one  end  of  the  country 
to  the  other  still,  never  long  in  one  place.  Take  a 
seat.     Have  you  dined  ?" 

The  little  man  pulled  out  an  old-fashioned  silver 
watch,  and  eyed  it  with  an  expres-sion  of  sardonic  con- 
tempt at  such  a  question. 

"I  dined  five  hours  ago,  at  one  o'clock,  the  time  I 
always  dine  at.  I  don't  pretend  to  be  fashionable,  Mr. 
Hazelwood  !" 

"  You'll  have  some  coffee  with  mo,  then,"  said  Mr. 


A     CIiniSTMAa    GIFT. 


81 


Hixzchvood,  ringing  the  bell.  **I  always  have  coffee 
ono  liour  bofore  dinner." 

But  the  fastidious  little  man  wouldn't  listen  to  this, 
either. 

*'  I  don't  drink  coffee  so  late  in  the  evening,  I  con- 
sider it  a  pernicious  practice.  I'll  take  a  cup  of  weak 
tea  and  some  dry  toast,  if  convenient.  I  never  take 
anything  heartier  after  six  in  the  evening." 

Mr.  Hazclwood  laughed,  a  genial  mellow  laugh, 
pleasant  to  hear,  and  folded  his  gay  dressing-gown 
closer  around  him. 

"What  an  old  anchorite  you  are.  Lance.  We  used 
to  call  you  Diogenes,  at  school,  and  I  find  you  are  Dio- 
genes  yet  !" 

'*  And  you  Alexander,  I  si^oposo  !"  said  the  small 
gentleman,  looking  round  him  cynically.  "The  world 
seems  to  have  gone  well  with  you  in  the  lapse  of  years." 

If  one  might  judge  by  Mr.  Ilazclwood's  looks  and 
surroundings,  it  certainly  had.  The  dining-room  in 
wliich  they  sat  was  adorned  with  every  comfort  and 
luxury  money  could  purchase.  Brussels  carpet,  satin 
curtains,  softly-cushioned  lounges,  and  easy-chairs, 
inlaid  tables,  exquisite  pictures,  and  a  carved  sideboard 
glittering  with  silver  and  cut-glass.     In  a  steel  grate  a 


82 


A     CHRISTMAS     GIFT. 


bright  coal  fire  burned  ;  for  Mr.  Hazel  wood,  despite  his 
furnace,  insisted  on  a  fire  the  whole  winter  through. 
It  was  pleasant  to  see  as  well  as  feel  the  heat,  pleasant, 
too,  to  watch  ihe  briglit  red  cinders  and  dream  over  tlie 
pictures  therein.  The  two  men  sat  opposite  each  other, 
in  two  carved  and  cushioned  armchairs,  and  formed  a 
striking  contrast.  TJie  one  with  his  fresh,  florid  com- 
plexion ;  his  tall  upright  figure  wrapped  in  the  gay 
dressing-gown  ;  his  snow-white  hair  and  beard  giving 
him  the  look  of  an  old-time  patriarch  ;  his  kindly  eye, 
and  smile,  and  v<jiL'e  :  the  other  with  his  thin,  keen 
brown  face,  Jus  sharp  sardonic  eye,  his  compressed 
cynical  mouth,  his  small  wiry  figure,  and  quick,  sharp, 
imperative  tones.  Yet  they  were  friends,  had  been 
friends  in  boyhood,  in  youth,  in  manhood  ;  and  now, 
when  falling  into  the  sere  and  yellow  leaf,  attached 
friends  still. 

Mr.  Ilazelwood  was  some  ten  years  the  elder,  and 
his  three  sons  had  been  partially  educated  under  the 
supervision  of  Professor  Lance ;  for  a  Professor  he  was 
— a  Professor  of  Mathematics  and  Classics  at Col- 
lege. 

A  servant  came  to  answer  the  bell.  Mr.  Ilazelwood 
ordered  tea  and  toast  for  his  friend,  and  coJIeo  for  him- 


A     CHRISTMAS    GIFT. 


88 


self,  and  looked  tlionghtfully  iu  the  fire  as  ho  replied  to 
the  last  remark. 

"Yes,  Uic  world  ha3  gone  well  with  me,  Doctor 
Lauco.  I  have  been  prospered  beyond  my  deserts ;  I 
am  nut  a  wealthy  man,  but  I  have  enough  for  all  my 
wants,  and  something  to  leave  my  boys  when  I  go.  I 
have  notliing  to  trouble  me ;  a  light  heart  and  easy 
conscience,  I  hope,  smooth  the  downward  path  to  the 
grave.     Thank  lleaven  for  the  blessings  I  enjoy  !" 

He  raised  his  velvet  cap  reverently  as  ho  spoke. 

Doctor  Lance  slightly  glanced  up  at  the  picture  over 
the  mantel — a  portrait  of  a  pretty  woman,  with  soft 
eyes  and  a  gentle  smile. 

"  Tour  wife  is  dead,  I  have  heard." 

Mr.  Ilazelwood's  eyes  lifted  themselves  to  the  por- 
trait too. 

"  She  died  eight  years  ago.  Her  loss  has  been  my 
only  sorrow  since  1  saw  you  last." 

"  You  have  a  housekeeper  now,  I  suppose." 

"My  sister  is  my  housekeeper.  You  remember 
Emily  ;  don't  you.  Lance  ?" 

Doctor  L;,nce  winced.  Twenty  years  ago,  when  his 
phlegmatic  blood  had  been  young  and  hot,  Jeremiah 
Lance  had  fallou  in  love  with  the  pretty  insipid  f.^co  of 


i; 


84 


A     CHRISTMAS    OlFT. 


1 ' 


Emily  Hazolwood,  and  been  refused  for  a  handsomer 
man.  That  was  the  first  and  last  folly  of  Doctor 
Lance ;  and  now  at  forty-five  ho  was  an  old  bachelor, 
ready  to  sneer  with  the  best  at  the  gentle  passion. 

"She  ran  off  with  that  graceless  scamp,  Frank 
Wood,  you  recollect,"  said  Mr.  Hazelwood,  who  had 
never  known  of  his  friend's  little  romance;  "and  a 
pretty  time  they  had  together,  for  thirteen  or  fourteen 
years — Wood  drinking  and  gambling,  and  she  following 
him  over  the  country  in  a  state  of  semi-starvation,  her 
children  dying  from  her  one  after  another  as  fast  as 
they  came.  Two  years  ago,  AVood  died  himself  in  a 
drunken  fit,  leaving  Emily  and  one  child,  a  little  girl, 
penniless  and  homeless.  Of  course,  I  brought  them 
here  at  once  ;  and  here  they  have  been  ever  since,  and 
are  likely  to  be  while  I  am  above-ground.  Susan,"  to 
the  servant  who  came  in  with  the  tea  and  coffee,  "tell 
Mrs.  Wood  there  is  an  old  friend  here  who  would  like 
to  see  her." 

"And  so  your  sons  are  all  at  home,"  remarked 
Dector  Lance,  taking  the  tea  his  friend  handed  him, 
**  gentlemen  at  large,  I  suppose — Broadway  swells,  with 
no  profession  ;  with  no  higher  business  in  life  to  attend 
to  than  their  toilet,  and  flirting  in  ball-rooms." 


A     CnUTSTMAS     GIFT. 


8S 


3Ir.  Uaz»>Iwood,  sipping  liis  coffee,  laughed  good  na- 
turedly  at  the  bitter  speccli. 

"  Yon  are  a  little  severe,  Dr.  Lance — boys  will  bo 
boys,  you  know,  and  mine,  I  trust,  are  pretty  good 
boye,  a5  g«>o«ines3  goes  among  iXxa  jeunes  (/ens  of  New 
YorL  Conway  does  nothing,  I  must  confess,  beyond 
yachting,  ami  rambling  up  and  down  the  world  ;  but 
Arthur  has  a  studi(j  in  Broadway,  where  ho  smokes 
cigar.?  and  drinks  lager,  and  daubs  in  paint  all  daylong, 
and  calls  htniself  an  artist ;  and  Eugene  bas  taken  out 
his  dii«!oma,  and  hung  up  his  shinglo,  with  M.  D.  after 
his  name,  on  the  same  tlioroughfare,  and  I  dare  say  is 
licensed  to  kill  with  tbc  best." 

Doctor  Lance  grunted. 

*'It"5  eiactly  like  tbem — the  characters  of  three  lie 
in  a  uar^biLdl.  Conway  bad  brains  and  never  would  use 
them  ;  Arthur  had  none  to  use,  and  Eugene  had  them 
and  usK,-d  tbem.  He  has  more  sense  than  the  other  two 
together." 

*' We  won't  quarrel  ovci  it.  Lance — have  another  cup 
of  tea?  They'll  bo  surprised  beyond  everything  at 
Bight  of  yon.  1*11  send  thcni  word  to  come  in  hero  be- 
fore they  go  out. 

**  Dresiing^  I  believe,  for  a>  Christmas  party,  at  old 


80 


A     CIIRTSTMAH     QTFT. 


Thornton's — Una'ci  ftoinf^,  too.  Oil,  by  the  way,  yon 
don't  know  Una,  do  you?"' 

*'  I  liaveu't  that  honor."' 

"  To  be  snre,  you  don't  know  her  !  I  have  only  had 
her  about  four  years,  nor  name  is"  Una  Forest — an 
orphan,  poor  little  thing  !  the  daughter  of  my  wife's 
only  brother.  Wc  took  her  when  her  parents  died,  to 
keep  her  out  of  the  workhouse,  and  she  has  been  here 
ever  since.  "Wait  till  you  see  her,  Lance,  and  you'll  see 
the  best  and  prettiest  little  girl  in  Now  York." 

"Humph!"  remarked  Dr.  Lance,  in  his  usual  sar- 
castic accent.  "Yours  is  a  sort  of  private  almshouse,  I 
find  ;  an  impoverished  sister  and  two  nieces — how  many 
more  are  there  ?  " 

"That's  all,"  said  Mr.  Ilazehvood,  with  his  good- 
natured  laugh,  "and  nothing  would  tempt  mo  to  part 
with  either  of  the  throe.  Appropos  of  Una,  I  some- 
times think  she  and  Eugene  will  make  a  match." 

"Don't  !"  said  P  •.  Lance,  raising  a  Avaruing  finger, 
"  don't,  I  beg  !  Of  all  tho  things  on  the  face  of  this 
earth,  a  habit  of  match-making  is  tho  most  despicable." 

"My  dear  fellow,  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  I  am 
not  match-making.  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  ; 
but  I  can't  prevent  the  course  of  events.     It's  the  most 


A     CIinH^TMAS     GIFT. 


87 


iiiitiiral  tiling  in  tho  world  tliat  Eugcno  and  Una  should 
UKirry.  They're  cousins,  to  bo  sure,  which  is  a  draw- 
back ;  but  still  I  tliink  Ihuy  could  hardly  do  bettor." 

'•  And  why,  pray,  should  iliss  Una  select  cs])ccially 
you-  youngest  son  ?" 

"  Will,  for  several  reasons.  lie  is  nearest  her  own 
age,  nu.)re  suitable  in  dis])osition  ;  and  then,  Conway,  I 
fancy,  has  already  chosen,  and  Arthur  is  too  lazy  to 
think  of  iinything  but  smoking  and  painting.  lie  ought 
to  be  a  Gorman  student  at  once." 

"And  who  has  Conway  honored  by  his  preference  ?" 

"A  very  pretty  girl,  Iloleu  Thornton,  one  of  tho 
greatest  heiresses  in  the  city      Come  in." 

Tills  last  invitation  was  given  in  response  to  a  tap  at 
the  door,  which  opened  immediately  after  to  admit  a 
a  cluirming  visitor.  A  youthful  angel,  of  some  fiflocn 
years,  slender  and  delicate  of  figure,  as  became  her  age, 
and  robed  in  floating  misty  white.  There  Avas  some- 
thing striking  and  peculiar  about  the  girl — it  consisted 
in  the  snowy  whiteness  and  purity  of  her  complexion. 
The  whole  face  was  perfectly  colorless  ;  yet  no  one 
could  li.tvo  pronounced  her  sickly,  but  no  Albino  could 
have  boasted  of  a  more  perfect  absence  of  color  in  the 
skin.     Under  tho  clear  surface  you  could  trace  every 


88 


A     CnmSTMAS    GIFT. 


blue  vein,  and  tlio  Iiair,  worn  in  profusion  of  braids, 
WHS  of  lliixcMi  liglitnoss.  The  eyes  wore  riithor  small, 
and  of  the  very  palest  blue;  the  features  smali  u'mI 
pretty  ;  the  hands  and  feet  tiny,  and  tho  ma  .ner  self- 
possessed  and  easy,  to  an  extraordinary  degree,  for  that 
ago  of  transition. 

Her  dress  of  white  tulle,  looped  up  with  bands  of 
pale  azure  ribbon,  was  low-necked  and  short-slcevcd ; 
and  she  wore  a  wreath  of  blue  flowers  in  her  pale  hair. 
All  white  and  azure,  no  one  could  look  once  without 
turning  to  gaze  again  on  that  singular  face.  Every 
human  countenance,  it  is  said,  is  cither  a  history  or  a 
prophecy — hers  was  a  prophecy,  and  a  startling  one,  too, 
could  either  of  the  twain  looking  at  her  have  read  it. 
Doctor  Lance  was  evidently  struck,  for  he  bout  his 
black  l)rows  and  fixed  his  weird  eyes  on  her  in  piercing 
scrutiny  as  Mr.  Ilazclwood  presented  her. 

"  ]My  niece,  Una  Forest,  Doctor.  Una,  my  dear, 
my  old  friend.  Doctor  Lance." 

Little  Miss  Forest  —  she  was  small  of  stature, 
dropped  him  a  pretty  courtesy,  filling  the  air  with  per- 
fume as  she  flirted  out  her  translucent  skirts. 

"Will  I  do,  uncle  ?"  she  asked  in  a  sweet,  childlike 
voice,  turning  round,  that  he  might  tho  better  survey 


A     OimiSTMAa    GIFT. 


her.     "  I  dressed  myKelf  v/itliout  any  one  helping  mc 

Utilll." 

"You  look  us  jn-etty  as  a  picture — doesn't  she, 
Doctor  ?" 

But  the  Doctor  only  gave  n  contomptnous  ginint. 

"Don't  tiro  yourself  dancing,  and  don't  stay  too 
late.     Wliat  time  will  Jenkins  go  after  you  ?" 

"  Wliatovcr  time  you  like,  uncle.  Will  two  o'clock 
be  too  late  ?" 

*'  Oh  no — two  will  do  nicely.     Where's  your  aunt  ?" 

"Down  stairs,  I  tliink.  I  must  find  her — she  wants 
to  see  mc,  too,  before  I  go." 

"  Have  the  boys  come  down  yet  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  laughed  little  Miss  Una.  "  They  take 
longer  to  dress  than  I  do  !     Why,  what's  that  ?" 

It  was  a  slirill  scream  from  the  hall  below.  Una 
turned  to  see  the  cause,  and  ran  against  Snsan,  the 
chambermaid,  flying  in,  with  eyes  and  mouth  wide 
open,  and  consternation  in  every  feature. 

"  0  Miss  Una  !  0  Sir.  Ilazclwood  !  Come  and  see 
what's  in  the  liall  !     Oh,  do  come— quick  !" 

"  What's  in  the  hall,  Susan  ?"  asked  Una  ;  but 
Susan,  in  a  wild  state  of  excitement,  ran  headlong 
down-stairs,  reiterating  her  entreaty  to  come  quick  I 


40 


A     CHRISTMAS     GIFT. 


Una  ran  after  her,  and  tlie  two  gentlemen,  rather 
startled,  followed  a  little  less  quiekly.  Tlio  sight  that 
greeted  them  was  not  very  startling  though,  after  all. 
Directly  under  the  hlazc  of  the  gasjets,  two  little 
children  stood,  tiny  creatures  of  very  little  over  a  year, 
apparently  ;  their  small  figures  draped  in  little  fur 
cloaks,  and  scarlet  woolen  hoods  on  their  heads.  But 
the  faces  under  the  hoods  were  of  exquisite  heauty,  rose- 
checked,  hlack-eyed,  and  cherry-moutiicd,  and  an  ex- 
uherance  of  black  ringlets  fell  over  the  fur  tippets. 

The  babies  were  twin,^,  and  the  pretty  faces  were  so 
much  alike  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  the  smallest 
difEercnce  between  them.  There  tlu-y  stood,  gazing 
around  them  out  of  their  large  black  eyes,  evidently  as 
much  astonished  as  to  how  they  got  there  a?  those  who 
stood  in  amazement  looking  at  them. 

Una  uttered  an  exclamation,  Mr.  Hazel  wood  uttered 
another,  and  Dr.  Lance  took  of!  his  si)ectaclcs  and 
•wiped  them,  to  bo  sure  his  eyes  were  not  deceiving  him. 

No;  it  was  no  optical  delusion.  There  the  children 
were  ;  and  where  they  had  come  from,  and  who  they 
might  be,  was  now  the  question. 

All  turned  to  Susan,  in  silent  inquiry. 

**I  don't  know  the  first  thing  about  'cm,"  protested 


A     OlIIUSTMAS    GIFT. 


41 


that  haudmiiiden,  with  widely-distended  eyes.  "Ten 
minutes  ago  I  came  down-stairs,  and  there  was  nothing 
ill  the  hall  ;  and  five  minutes  after,  when  I  was  coming 
up,  I  hero  they  wore,  as  you  see  'em.  The  bell  didn't 
rill,:,';  tlicre  was  no  noise;  but  there  they  stood.  I 
screamed  out,  and  ran  up-stairs  ;  and  that's  evorything 
1  know  about  it !" 

''  llerc's  a  letter  !"  cried  Una,  seizing  a  large  buff 
envelope  lying  on  the  table.  "Read  it,  uncle.  Perhaps 
it  tells." 

"The  letter  was  addressed  in  a  disguised  hand  to 
"Mr.  Hugh  Ilazelwood  ";  and  that  gentleman,  in  a  be- 
wildered state  of  mind,  tore  it  ojien  and  road  : 

"Mil.  ]lAZKL\V00D—8ir:— Those  children  arc  sent 
to  you  because  you  have  the  best  right  to  (ake  charge  of 
them.  They  arc  your  grandchildren.  They  arc  twins, 
and  just  11  f teen  months  uld.  I  send  them  to  you  as  a 
Cliristnias-gift,  whicli  I  know  you  will  not  refuse.  You 
Avill  ad()]it  and  cilueato  tlieui  as  your  own.  Give  them 
your  own  name,  if  you  choose;  it  is  rightfully  theirs ; 
but  if  you  prefer  it,  you  may  call  them  by  their  moth- 
er's, Starr.  The  one  dressed  in  blue  is  Rosamond  ;  the 
one  in  ])ink,  Evangeline.  I  repeat  it,  tliey  are  your 
grandchildi'on,  /is  you  v>\\\  learn  to  your  cost  should  you 
attempt  to  disciird  (hem. 

"  Yours,  respectfully,         Sajsta  Clau-." 


:::i\.'',\i\^.'tf;^,;>Cryiii^is;,[iia 


&'f?i 


40 


THE    BRO TITERS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  BROTH  El.  ,. 


HE  quartet  stood  aghast. 

Mr.  llazclwood  had  read  the  note  aloud, 
and  ''Bless  my  soul !"  was  all  the  comment 
ho  was  able  to  utter  in  his  consternation. 

*'They  are  your  grandchildren,"  quoted  Doctor 
Lance,  with  malicious  emphasis.     "  Kcmember  that." 

A  crimson  flush  of  anger  and  incredulity  rose  to  the 
face  of  the  old  gentleman. 

"It's  a  vile  slander  !  It's  the  work  of  son>  ^  iniij  ii- 
ous  being  who  has  taken  this  means  of  eocuri'j,  :  'i.)ii  > 
for  the  offspring  she  will  not  rear.  Anything  like  Ji'' 
cool  impudence  of  the  whole  thing  I  never  heard  of ! 
Christmas  gift,  indeed  !  I'll  send  them  to  the  alms- 
house to-morrow.  Santa  Glaus,  whoever  ho  or  she  may 
be,  will  find  Mr.  Hugh  llazclwood  is  not  quite  such  a 
fool  as  they  take  him  to  be  !" 

Such  an  outburst  on  the  part  of  cxc-t  npored, 
good-natured  Mr.  llazclwood  was  even  more  exuraordi- 
nary  than  the  mysterious  appai'itiou  of  the  children. 


TEE    BROTHERB. 


48 


Doctor  Lance  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  scrutinized 
[the  two  little  faces  through  his  spectacles. 

"Black  eyes,  hlack  hair,  fresh  complexion,  and 
good  features — all  characteristics  of  the  Hazelwoods ! 
IJpou  my  word,  I  begin  to  think  there  is  some  truth  in 
the  letter,  after  all !" 

"Lancer 

Mr.  Hazchvood  was  breaking  out  in  a  high  state  of 
temper  ;  but  Doctor  Lance  only  pointed  with  composure 
at  the  two  little  creatures. 

*'  Look  for  yourself,  then  !  Take  off  their  mufflers 
and  see  if  I  am  not  right." 

Una  oboycd  the  command  by  at  once  undoing  the 
fur  cloaks  and  scarlet  hoods  ;  and  the  twins  emerged 
at  once  from  caterpillars,  so  to  speak,  into  brightest 
butterflies. 

Tlicir  dress  was  of  the  richest  texture  and  most 
fashionable  make  ;  everything  they  wore  showing  plainly 
that  money  had  not  been  spared  in  their  outfit.  The 
one  first  undressed  wore  a  short  frill  dre^s  of  blue  silk  ; 
the  other  pink  ;  the  short  sleeves  and  low  corsago 
tiiinmcd  with  ermine,  necklaces  of  coral  and  gold 
around  their  plump  throats,  fancy  boots  with  shining 
buttons  on  their  feet,  richly-embroidered  underclothes 


44 


THE    BROTHERS. 


peeping  out  beneath  the  silken  skirts,  and  their  profnso 
jetty  ringlets  falling  nearly  to  their  waists. 

A  prettier  tableau  than  they  made  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  find,  as  they  stood  side  by  side, 
looking  round  them  with  great  shining  wondering 
eyes. 

Una  and  Susan,  woman-l"'  3,  uttered  simultaneous 
exelamations  of  delight. 

Mr.  Hazelwood  melted  at  once  ;  and  oven  the  cyni- 
cal little  Professor  who  believed  all  beauty  to  be  a  fleet- 
ing show  and  delusion,  was  betrayed  into  something 
like  a  glance  of  admiration. 

"  Oh,  what  pretty  little  things  !"  was  Una's  cry. 
**0  Uncle  Hugh  !  ain't  they  sweet !'' 

*'  I  wish  they  had  taken  their  sweetness  somewhere 
else  1"  grumbled  Uncle  Hugh,  in  a  subdued  '  jue,  how- 
over.  "They're  pretty  enough;  but  what  am  I  to  do 
with  them,  I  want  to  know  ?  I  say  I  Ciiu  Ihcy 
speak  ?" 

"  What's  your  name,  dear  ?"  Una  asked,  taking 
the  little  hand  of  the  blue  twin,  and  caressing  the 
pretty  curls. 

The  two  children  turned  their  black  eyes  on  Una's 
fair  face,  aiid  only  stared  in  reply. 


THE    BROTHERS. 


40 


"  Tell  mo  your  name,"  persisted  the  yonng  lady. 
h  Can't  3'oa  speak  ?    "What's  your  name  ?"' 

"Eosic,"  answered  the  little  one,  ia  a  sweet  infan- 
tile lisp, 

"Rosic  what  ?•'  asked  Una,  encouraged. 

*' Ilosie,"  repeated  the  blue  twin,  still  staring  hard 
tat  her  interlocutor. 

"  And  wlicre  do  you  come  from,  Rosie  ?" 

Una  hesitated,  still  toying  with  the  long  curls. 

But  Miss  Rosic  had  exhausted  her  coniniand  of  the 
speech  of  Albion  in  that  ono  "word  ;  and  the  jiink  twin, 
wlio-;e  eyes  had  been  attracted  by  (he  wreath  in  Una's 
hair,  liere  made  a  sudden  grab  at  it  and  tore  it  from  her 
head, 

Susan  screamed,  and  Una  rose  up. 

"  You  little  monkey  !  You  have  hands  if  you  have 
no  tongue.     AViiat  do  they  call  you  ?" 

"Sec,  Rosie!  Sec,  Rosie!''  the  pink  twin  cried, 
with  a  gleeful  laugh,  holding  up  the  flowers  in  triumph. 

*'  Oh,  she  can  speak,  too !  You're  Evangeline—, 
ain't  you.  Miss  ?"  incpiirod  Mr.  Hazelwood,  lifting  the 
pretty  culprit  up  in  his  arms. 

But  ]\Iis3  Evangeline,  averse,  perhaps,  to  this  sum- 
mary mode  of  seizure,  set  up  a  jjrolongcd  yell,  by  way 


40 


THE    BROTHERS. 


of  reply,  and  struggled  to  get  free.  Mr.  Hazclwood  put 
her  precipitately  down  again. 

"I'll  answer  for  the  strength  of  your  lungs  anyway, 
my  little  virago  !  What  under  Heaven  am  I  to  do 
about  this,  Lance  ?" 

"  You  had  better  consult  your  sons  on  the  subject." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  You  don't  seriously  mean 
to  say  you  believe  the  infamous  slander  contained  in 
this  vile  anonymous  letter  ?" 

"  I  believe  the  evidence  of  my  senses  !  Look  at 
the  faces  of  these  infants,  and  see  if  they  are  not  Hazel- 
woods." 

"Una!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Hazelwood,  struggling  to 
repress  his  rising  indignation,  "go  up-stairs  and  request 
your  cousins  to  come  down  at  once.  Their  own  lips 
shall  deny  or  confirm  the  charge.     Susan,  you  may  go." 

"  Do  you  really  imagine  for  a  moment,  Mr.  Hazel- 
wood,"  sneered  Doctor  Lance,  "that  either  of  these 
young  gentlemen  will  plead  guilty  to  any  proprietorship 
in  these  two  young  ladies  ?  Why,  the  greatest  of  crim- 
inals answers  *  not  guilty '  when  tlie  judge  goes  through 
the  formula." 

Mr.  Hazelwood,  his  usually  serene  face  very  red, 
drew  himself  stiffly  up. 


THE    BROTHERS. 


4n 


"My  boys  know  liow  to  tell  the  truth.  Doctor 
Lanco,  poor  :i3  your  opinion  of  them  is.  You  may 
bclicvo  them  or  not,  and  I  shall  do  the  same." 

Doctor  Lance  smiled  contemptuously,  and  still 
stared  through  his  spectacles  at  the  little  ones,  who 
stood  wonderfully  quiet,  gazing  around  them. 

Una  had  darted  off  to  obey  orders,  and  the  two  gen- 
tlemen were  waiting  in  silence,  when,  with  a  strong 
rustling  of  silk,  a  lady  swept  down  tlic  staircase,  her 
ribbons  fluttering  stormily  in  a  breeze  of  her  own  mak- 
ing. A  pretty  lady  ;  fair,  fat,  and  forty  ;  her  ample 
form  robed  in  stiff  black  silk,  her  black  lace  cap 
adorned  with  a  plenitude  of  black  satin  streamers  ;  a 
diamond  breastpin,  the  size  of  a  small  cheese-plate,  on 
her  broad  breast ;  jet  eardrops  in  her  ears,  and  jet  brace- 
lets on  her  plump  wrists. 

It  was  Mrs.  Wood,  with  her  brother's  florid  com- 
])lexion,  and  the  black  eyes  and  hair  of  the  Ilazlewoods. 
lie  r  black  eyebrows  raised  very  high,  her  black  eyes  ex- 
ceedingly wide  open,  her  mouth  in  the  same  state,  her 
hands  ujdifted,  and  her  whole  face  full  of  utmost  cons- 
ternation, she  swept  in  between  them  like  a  whirlwind. 

"  What  is  it,  Hugh  ?  What  on  earth  is  this  ?  Where 
in  the  world  did  these  two  children  come  from  ?" 


48 


TUn    BROTHERS. 


"Tluit'ri  just  "wliat  1  want  some  one  to  tell  myself. 
I'm  as  nnicli  in  the  dark  as  you  arc  !" 

"Susan  said  tlicro  was  a  letter  !  Where  is  it  ?  What 
does  it  say  ?  " 

"My  dear  Emily,  don't  get  in  such  a  gale  !  The 
letter  is  here  :  but  before  you  read  it,  look  round  you 
and  see  if  you  cau  recognize  an  old  friend  !" 

Mrs.  Wood  for  the  first  time  turned  her  eyes  on 
Doctor  Lance,  who  made  her  a  grave,  stiff,  old-fashioned 
bow. 

"0  my  goodness!  Doctor  Lance!  Why  how  do 
you  do  ? "  shaking  hands  with  the  umost  effusion. 
"  What  a  stranger  you  are  !     When  did  you  come  ?"' 

"  Half  an  hour  ago.    I  trust  I  pcc  Mrs.  'Wood  well  ?" 

"  Very  well,  thank  you  !  And  where  on  cai'th,"  cried 
i\[rs.  Wood,  forgetting  all  about  the  children  imme- 
diately— "have  you  been  all  these  years,  I  declare." 

Whithout  waiting  for  an  answer  ; 

"  You  are  not  the  least  chancred  !  I  should  have 
known  you  anywhei*e." 

"  And  I  would  not  have  known  you  at  all  !"  said 
Doctor  Lance,  in  a  tone  that  conveyed  no  compliment. 
"Ton  years  have  changed  you  sufficiently  !" 

"Do  you  hear  thai,  Emily  ?  ho  means  to  say  you  are 


TOE    BROTHERS. 


40 


growing  old  and  fat,"  laughed  Mr,  Hazel  wood.  "  Not 
much  trace  left  of  the  sylpli-like  Emily  Ilazelwood — oh, 
Lance  ?"' 

Doctor  Lance  gave  a  snort  that  might  hayo  implied 
anything,  exe-ept  perhaps  dissent;  and  Mrs.  "Wood,  who 
inherited  her  brotiiiers  good  nature,  shrugged  her  broad 
shoulders  a)*d  heaved  a  little  sigh  of  resignation. 

"  Years  improve  none  of  us,  I  am  afraid  ;  and  it's 
better  to  grow  Moat  and  substantial  than  shrink  into 
tlic  'lean  and  slippered  pantaloon'  Shakesperc  or  some- 
body else  talks  about.  You  have  come  to  make  a  long 
visit  of  cour&e.  Doctor  Lance  ?" 

"  Business  rcqaires  my  presence  in  New  York  for  a 
few  weeks.  I  tha«l  stop  no  longer  than  is  absolutely 
necessary,  madam  T 

"  Tliat  is  too  Jxaifl  of  you.  At  all  events,  yon  will  be 
our  guest  for  thoK-  lf<^w  weeks  ?" 

"Of  course  he  w III !''  exclaimed  Mr.  Hazelwood. 
"He  will  not  off«?n>i  U3  by  stopping  anywhere  else." 

"  If  such  a  trifle  offends  you,  you  must  be  offended 
then  !  I  remain  at  the  A.->tor  House  while  here  !  It's  of 
no  use,  Mr.  Hazelwood,"  raising  a  warning  linger  as 
that  gentleman  was  aboat  to  break  out  in  expostulation. 
"  You  ought  to  know  me  well  enough  to  be  aware  coax- 


50 


THE    BROTHERS. 


ing  will  bo  a  waste  of  breath.     Show  Mrs.  Wood   the 
letter  and  sec  what  her  woman's  wit  makes  of  it  1" 

Mrs.  Wood  took  the  letter,  and  ran  her  eye  over  it, 
setting  up  another  scream  of  consternation  at  its 
close. 

"Your  grandchildren  !  Did  you  hear  that,  Hugh  ? 
Good  gracious  me  !    Can  it  be  true  ?" 

"  Emily  !  how  can  you  ask  such  a  question  ?"  Mr. 
Hazelwood  sternly  cried.  "  Of  course,  it  can't  be 
true !" 

"  But,  dear  me,  brother,  it's  so  odd  !  and  young 
men  arc  such  a  set !  It's  really  the  most  extraordinary 
thing  I  ever  heard  of  I" 

"Not  so  very  extraordinary  in  this  city.  Such 
things  happen  every  day,"  said  Dr.  Lance. 

"Come  here,  my  dear,"  insiimated  Mrs.  Wood, 
holding  out  her  motherly  arms.  "Come  here  and 
tell  me  your  name  !    Can  they  speak  ?" 

"They  can  speak  enough  for  that!  Tills  blue 
one  calls  herself  Rosie.  The  pink  one  does  nothing 
but  yell.  I  took  her  up  a  moment  ago,  and  she 
screamed  blue  murder  !  I'll  answer  for  the  strength 
of  her  lungs,  at  any  rate." 

"If  there  were  only  one,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Wood, 


THE    BliOrnERS. 


61 


a   the 

\rer  it, 
at    its 

lagli  ? 

?"  Mr. 
jaw't  bo 

d  young 
ordinary 

Such 

.   Wood, 
licre  aud 

:hi3  blue 
nothing 
and  she 
strength 

ra.  Wood, 


thoughtfully,  "  but  two  !  Such  pretty  little  pots,  too, 
and  so  bouutifiilly  dressed  I  I  wonder  who  their 
mother  is  ?" 

**  You  had  better  ask  yon  nephew,"  suggested  that 
spiteful  Dr.  Lanee.  ''The  whole  affair  is  absurd  and 
mysterious  enough  for  a  three-volume  novel.  Oh, 
here  comes  some  one  who  may  throw  some  light  on 
the  subject,  perhaps." 

They  all  looked  around.  Una  was  coming  down- 
stairs with  a  young  gentleman  in  stylish  evening- 
costume — a  tall  and  handsome  young  gentleman,  with 
dark  bright  eyes,  black  curling  hair,  and  his  father's 
pleasant  face.  It  was  Mr.  Conway  Hazelwood — grace- 
less Conway — whom  Dr.  Lance  remembered  as  head 
mischief-maker  at  school,  always  getting  into  unheard- 
of  scrapes,  and  always  getting  out  again  scot  free 
by  some  mysterious  sleight  of  hand  of  his  own :  half 
his  time  rusticated  for  his  mad  pranks  :  handsome 
Conway,  whom  everybody  liked  for  his  laughing  black 
eyes  and  sunny  smile  :  dashing  Conway,  with  whom 
young  ladies  fell  in  love  at  first  sight  :  daring  Conway, 
who  ran  with  the  firemen,  and  had  risked  his  neck 
a  dozen  times,  climbing  up  burning  ladders  to  save 
the  lives  of  unfortunate  forgotten  wretches  :  gay,  easy, 


63 


THE    BllOTIlKRa. 


mirth-loving,  hot-headed  Conway  Hazclwood ;  one 
of  tho  "curled  darlings  of  nature,"  the  pride  of 
his  father's  heart,  who  came  running  down-stairs  now 
with  eager  face  and  outstretclicd  hand  : 

**  Dr.  Lance,  by  all  that's  glorious  1  Morry  Christ- 
mas, Doctor!  It's  ages  ago  sinco  I'vo  seen  ou,  and 
how  has  the  world  been  using  you  all  this  tin 

"I  have  uotliing  to  complain  of  since  I  got  rid 
of  Mr.  Conway  Hazclwood,"  replied  tho  little  Doctor, 
jerking  away  his  hand  from  Conway's  enthusiastic 
grasp;  "what  pranks  have  you  been  up  to  lately, 
young  man  ?    Look  there  !" 

Conway  looked,  and  gave  a  shrill  whistle  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  Two  babies  I  You  never  mean  to  say.  Doctor 
Lance,  you  have  taken  to  matrimony  in  your  old  age. 
By  Jove  !    they're  your  very  image  !" 

"Well  done,  Conway!"  cried  his  father,  laughing, 
while  tlie  little  Doctor  turned  his  fiery  eyes  wrathfully 
on  tlie  speaker. 

"  No  sir  !  don't  try  to  shift  tho  burden  of  your  own 
evil-doing  on  other  shoulders  !  They  are  not  like  me, 
but  they  are  like  Conway  Hazclwood  !" 

"  Tliank  you  for  tho  compliment,  sir.    The  little 


THE  niiornEits. 


S3 


ones  aro  uncommonly  proity.  I  say,  father,  what  talo 
of  wonder  is  this  Una  tolls  mo  about  ? — these  two  little 
items  Ix'ing  found  in  the  hall.  " 

"I  know  nothing  more  about  it  than  Una  does. 
Where  are  the  rest  ?  " 

"  Coming,  sir,"  answered  Una. 

And  as  she  spoke,  the  younger  sons  of  Mr.  Hazel- 
wood  made  their  appearance,  coming  down  stairs. 

Except  that  both  were  well-dressed  and  of  gentle- 
manly bearing,  there  was  not  the  slightest  trace  of  re- 
semblance between  the  brothers.  Arthur  was  tall  like 
Conway,  but  much  slighter  ;  with  fair,  delicate  features 
like  a  girl ;  large  light-blue  eyes,  something  like  Una's  ; 
light-brown  hair,  worn  long  on  his  neck  ;  an  irresolute 
undecided  mouth,  and  altogether  an  effeminate  appear- 
ance. Languid  and  listless,  slow  and  lazy,  a  carpet- 
knight  in  every  sense  of  the  phrase  ;  very  little  of  the 
stout  Hazelwood  blood  had  descended  to  him.  Ho 
looked  like  the  fairhaired  woman  whose  portrait  hung 
in  the  dining-room ;  he  inherited  his  nature  from  her 
as  well  as  his  looks  and  had  been  her  pet  and  favorite 
all  her  life. 

Young  ladies  who  visited  his  luxurious  studio,  where 
ho  lounged  in  velvet  slippers  and  cap,  and  oriental 


54 


THE    BROTHERS. 


dressing-gown  ;  smoking  cigars  and  painting  charming 
little  landscapes  in  the  Chmdo  Lorraine  style,  with 
romantic  milkmaids  in  short  red  petticoats  and  pails  on 
their  heads,  pronounced  him  the  incarnation  of  the 
adjective  "sweet,"  and  went  into  raptures  over  his 
melancholy  blue  eyes  and  delicate,  insipid  characterless 
features.  lie  was  looking  very  well  just  now,  gotten 
up  regardless  of  expense,  and  his  blue  eyes,  were  opened 
very  wide  in  wonder  at  sight  of  the  assemblage  in  tho 
ha]l. 

As  much  unlike  his  two  elder  brothers  as  it  was 
possible  to  be  was  Doctor  Lance's  favorite,  Eugene.  No 
young  ladies  ever  went  in  ecstacios  over  him  or  })ro- 
nounced  him  sweet.  "Bear,"  "Monster,"  "Orson" 
were  their  jjct  names  for  liim,  and  no  one  knew  it  better 
than  the  young  gentleman  himself.  Low  of  stature  and 
rather  inclined  to  be  stout,  with  a  peculiarly  short  neck 
that  gave  him  the  appearance  of  being  deformed,  lie 
resembled  ncitlier  the  tall  handsome  ILizclwood  nor  tho 
effeminate  Saxon  typo  of  his  mother's  race.  But  the 
dark  face  was  full  of  character ;  the  thin,  firm,  com- 
pressed mouth ;  tlio  large,  well  shaped  nose  ;  the  rest- 
less, fiery  eye  ;  the  Inroad,  pale  brow  projecting  above — 
intellect  was  proudly  written  on  all.     Tho  com])lexion 


THE    BROTHERS. 


65 


was  (liirk  to  swiivtliincss ;  tl;o  thick  1/lack  brows  meet- 
ing over  the  nose  lent  additional  piercingness  to  tlie 
dct'i)ly  sunken  eyes  :  and  the  muscles  around  the  thin 
bitter  lips  seldom  relaxed  into  a  smile.  People  said 
Conway  had  absorbed  all  the  beauty  and  Eugene  all  the 
l)rains  of  the  family;  and  Conway  was  ])ctted  and 
caressed,  and  flattered  and  spoiled  wherever  he  went, 
wliile  Eugene  was  praised,  and  admired,  and  shunned 
as  a  proof  which  of  the  two  gifts  the  world  values 
most. 

And  Eugene,  knowing  this,  had  grown  up  a  sort  of 
Islimael,  with  a  morbidly-exaggerated  sense  of  his  own 
personal  defects,  his  hand  against  every  man'o,  and, 
most  of  all  against  his  tall  and  stately  brothers,  whom 
lu)  envied  with  an  intensity  that  was  very  like  hatred. 
I'roud,  fiery,  sullen,  passionate,  cruel,  and  vindictive, 
he  had  one  real  admirer — and,  perhaps,  only  one — 
Doctor  Lance,  with  whom  genii  ^  was  the  greatest  gift 
of  God,  and  who  desj)ised  tlic  never-do-well  Conway 
and  (lio  languid  Arthur  with  an  honest  heartiness  that 
Would  have  delighted  that  stcrm  lover  of  good-nature, 
Doctor  Johnson. 

Una,   on  her  way,   had  made  them  both  aware   of 
the  arrival  of   their  former    tutor  ;  and  given  them  a 


56 


THE    BROTHERS. 


hasty  sketch  of  the  singuhir  apparition  of  the  twins,  so 
that  neither  took  them  unawares.  Eugene,  who  ai)pre- 
ciatcd  Doctor  Lance  quite  as  much  as  tluit  gentleman 
did  him,  hekl  out  his  hand  with  unwonted  cordiality. 

"  Welcome  to  New  York,  Doctor  !  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you  !     What's  all  this  hubbub  about  ?" 

"  These  babies  don't  belong  to  you,  Doctor,"  lisped 
Arthur,  staring  languidly,  wliilo  he  shook  hands. 
"  They're  very  pretty  indeed.  Look  like  two  of  Cor- 
reggio's  smiling  angels." 

"  Angels  some  one  of  you  three  are  accused  of  own- 
ing," said  his  father.  "  Ivead  that  letter  aloud,  Emily, 
and  let  me  hear  what  they  have  to  say  for  themselves." 

Mrt-.Wood,  notliing  loath,  ready  the  pithy  epistle 
from  beginning  to  end  ;  and  its  effect  on  the  three 
brothers  was  characteristic.  Conway  set  \\\)  an  inde- 
corous laugh.  Arthur's  face  was  the  very  picture  of 
lielpless  bewilderment,  and  Eugene's  dark  brows 
knitted  into  a  swarthy  froAvn. 

"Now,  then,"  their  father  demanded,  watching 
them  searchingly,  "which  of  you  does  the  letter 
mean." 

"I  should  say  it  meant  we  held  a  joint-i)artncrship 
in    the   affair,    the    three    of  us,"   answered    laughing 


THE    BROTHERS. 


5T 


Conway.  "  Upon  my  word,  tliat's  the  coolest  piece  of 
composition  I  have  heard  this  many  a  day." 

*'  By  Jove  !"  said  Arthur,  still  staring  in  helpless- 
ness, "it's  the  most  astounding  thing,  isn't  it  ?  Like  a 
thing  in  a  play  or  a  story — eh  ?" 

**  I  don't  see  that  there  is  anything  so  astounding 
about  it,"  said  Eugene,  his  blaek  brows  still  knitted. 
''  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  you 
dream  of  in  your  simple  philosophy,  my  good  father." 

"By  George  !  Eugene's  going  to  own  up  !"  cried 
Conway,  while  every  eye  fix  itself  on  tlio  youngest 
son  of  Mr.  Hazelwood,  "  still  wafers  run  deep,  they  say, 
and  after  this  I  shall  believe  it !  LeL  mc  be  the  first  to 
embrace  my  niece." 

He  lifted  the  nearest  one,  the  pink  twin,  in  his  arms 
as  bespoke,  and  pressed  his  mustached  mouth  tt  its 
cherry  lips,  and  the  little  one,  who  had  screamed  at  a 
like  act  from  the  father,  nestled  sociably  in  the  arms  of 
the  son. 

"  Young  or  old,  the  girls  liko  Conway,"  lauglicd 
his  father,  "the  little  vixens  wouldn't  look  at  me  !" 

"  Nature  speaks  loudly  in  the  infant  mim.1,"  sneered 

Engcne,  with  a  look  and  tone  of  indescribable  meaning, 

"it's  a  wise  child  knows  its  own  father." 
8* 


58 


THE    BROTHERS. 


I     ^ 


Conway's  fjice  flushed  indignant  red,  and,  putting 
down  the  little  one  as  hastily  as  he  had  taken  her  up, 
he  took  a  step  forward  and  confronted  his  brother,  with 
a  dangerous  light  kindling  in  his  dark  eye. 

"  Speak  a  little  plainer,  Eugene  ;  innuendos  are 
cowardly  things.     Do  you  mean  to  aay — " 

"  I  mean  to  say,"  interrupted  Eugene,  returning  the 
fiery  glance  with  cool  contempt,  "  that  I  believe  the  letter. 
Mr.  Conway  Hazelwood  may  translate  this  as  best  suits 
him." 

"  Don't  come  to  fisticuffs  here,  you  two,"  drawled 
Arthur ;  you'll  spoil  your  clothes  and  disheyel  your  hair, 
and  make  frights  of  yourselves  before  Miss  Thornton. 
By  the  way,  Una,  don't  tell  her  what  Eugene  says, 
Conway's  cake  will  be  dough." 

"Which  my  dear  brother  Arthur  would  very  much 
regret,"  said  Conway,  slirugging  his  shoulders  and  turn- 
ing away  with  a  short  laugh  ;  "you  always  were  a  pru- 
dent fellow,  Arthur,  and  I'll  take  your  advice.  Eu- 
gene and  I  won't  spoil  our  clothes  about  trifles  !  After 
eight.  Una,"  pulling  out  his  watch,  "are  you  almost 
ready  ?" 

"  I  am  quite  ready,"  Una  answered,  but  she  lingered 
still,  looking  at  her  undo.     That  gentleman  was  stand- 


THE    BROTHERS. 


50 


tting 

up, 

hvith 

are 


ing  looking  in  perplexity  from  one  to  tlio  other  of  his 
sons,  and  luilf  indignantly  at  the  keen  smile  on  Doctor 
Lance's  cynical  lips. 

"And  have  you  nothing  to  say  to  this  charge  before 
you  go?"  lio  inquired,  "none  of  you  have  denied 
it  yet." 

"That's  very  easily  done,"  said  the  smiling  Conway  ; 
"of  course,  we  all  deny  it.  Does  the  chirography  throw 
any  light  on  the  subject,  Eugene  ?" 

Eugene  had  taken  the  letter  from  his  aunt's  hand  and 
was  examining  it  closely,  lie  folded  it  quietly  now, 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"I  think  it  does — I  think  I  have  seen  writing 
like  this  before.  It  is  well  disguised,  but  with  the 
])onnission  of  the  company  I  will  keep  this  document 
for  a  few  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time  I  think 
I  shall  have  found  out  all  I  want  to  know." 

"  God  speed  you  in  your  search !  Now  be  oflf 
and  don  your  wrappings — I  want  to  be  early  to-night." 

"  Are  you  going  to  propose  to  Miss  Thornton  ?" 
asked  Arthur. 

"No,"  said  Conway,  smiling  ;  "I  shall  wait  until 
she  has  refused  you  first." 

"For    shame,   Conway!"    exclaimed    Mrs.    Wood, 


60 


TEE    BROTHERS. 


"  what  will  Dr.  Lance  think  of  you  all,  bickering  in 
this  manner  ?" 

**0h  don't  mind  mo,  I  bog,"  exclaimed  that  little 
gentleman,  in  his  blandest  tones,  *'  I  beg  tlio  young 
gentlemen  will  go  on  as  usual,  and  never  mind  me." 

"And  what  am  I  to  do  Avith  these  little  waifs, 
then?"  inquired  Mr.  Ilazelwood  ;  "I  hate  to  be  im- 
posed on,  or  to  seem  to  obey  the  impudent  person 
who  left  them  here ;  but  one  hates  to  send  such 
pretty  little  things  to  the  almshouse." 

"  So  they  do  ;  but  if  they  were  pug-nosed,  and  red- 
haired,  and  dressed  in  tatters,  you  could  send  them 
without  the  least  compunction,  now,  I  dare  swear," 
said  Doctor  Lance,  with  his  customary  cynicism. 

"  Oh,  don't  think  of  the  almshouse,"  said  Eugene. 
"It  never  would  do  for  the  future  heiresses  of  the 
Hazelwoods  to  go  there.  Lot  them  stay,  by  all  means. 
They  will  make  very  nice  i)arlor-ornaments  at  a  small 
price." 

His  hat  and  overcoat  were  on  his  arm.  Ho  be- 
gan putting  the  former  on,  and  Arthur  to  follow  his 
example. 

Una  came  running  down-stairs,  in  shawl  and  rigol- 
lette,  carrying  Conway's  ;  and  Jenkins,  the  coachman, 


THE    BROTHERS 


61 


made  his  appearance  to  let  them  known  the  carriage 
was  waiting. 

"All  right,  Jenkins  ;  so  are  we,"  answered  Con- 
way. "  Come  along,  Una.  Yes,  father ;  keep  the 
little  ones.  There  is  no  telling,  as  Eugene  says,  but 
they  may  turn  out  to  be  your  grandchildren,  after  all." 

Uis  laugh  was  puzzling,  but  there  was  no  guilt  in 
his  face. 

Arthur,  buttoning  up  his  greatcoat,  turned  to  fol- 
low Conway. 

"  Are  you  not  coming  with  us,  Eugene  ?"  he  in- 
quired, seeing  Eugene  standing  watching  the  twins,  as 
if  fascinated. 

"  No  ;  I  prefer  to  walk.  I  don't  doubt  but  that 
Conway  will  enjoy  the  drive  quite  as  well  without  me." 

Conway,  standing  in  the  doorway,  turned  round 
with  a  smile  on  his  face,  and  the  eyes  of  the  brothers 
met. 

Doctor  Lance  read  the  glance — defiance    in  the  dark 
eyes,  hatred  and  triumph  in  the  light  ones  ! 

Then  Conway,  still  with  that  doubtful  smile  on  his 
handsome  face,  was  gone,  and  Eugene  was  standing 
like  a  statue  gazing  at  the  children. 

"  Loving  brothers  I"  Doctor  Lanco  was  sneering, 


63 


TEE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


inwardly.  "What  a  beautiful  thing  is  family-alTection  I 
Mr.  Couway  had  better  take  care.  I  would  rather 
have  a  sleuth-hound  on  my  track  than  Euguene  Hazel- 
wood  1" 


CHAPTER  IV, 


THE   APPLE   OF   DISCORD. 

LONG  drawing-room,  liandsomely  furnished, 
ablaze  with  lights,  resounding  with  music, 
and  occupied  by  a  crowd  of  well-dressed 
ladies  and  gentlemen.  Not  too  large  a  crowd.  Miss 
Helen  Thornton  had  too  much  good  taste  for  that. 
There  were  not  over  thirty  persons  present,  and  all 
bosom-friends  of  Miss  Thornton's.  Judging  from 
appearances,  it  was  the  most  sociable  of  sociables — a 
sort  of  Liberty  Hall,  where  every  one  did  as  they 
pleased,  and.  made  themselves  altogether  at  hq^me.  One 
group  at  the  upper  end  had  formed  a  set,  and  were  bow- 
ing and  dipping  through  the  Lancers ;  the  card-tables 
in  the  cozy  recesses  were  occupied  by  a  very  noisy  lot  of 
elderly  ladies  and  gentlemen  ;  further  down,  a  damsel 
in  sky-blue,  with  very  powerful  lungs,  was  seated  at  a 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


68 


grand  piano,  hallooing  some  shrill  operatic  gem,  with 
piercing  accuracy,  to  whoever  chose  to  listen  ;  some 
stood  in  little  knots  here  and  there,  flirting  and  laugh- 
ing ;  Bome  lounged  on  the  sofas,  playing  wall-flower, 
and  a  few  were  wandering  in  and  out  of  a  conservatory 
opening  out  of  the  drawing-room.  Over  all,  a  German 
band,  jiercbwl  up  in  a  gilded  gallery,  among  the  glar- 
ing gaslight?,  were  thundering  forth  dance-music  ;  and 
a  vast  Christmas  tree  near  the  centre  of  the  apartment, 
perfectly  dazzling  to  look  at,  with  Santa  Claus,  gray, 
withered,  and  frosty,  guarding  it,  told  what  the  festi- 
val was  thev  were  celebrating. 

Standing  beside  the  Christmas  tree,  a  fairer  guardian 
than  old  Santa  Clans,  flrting  with  half-a-dozen  young 
men,  was  a  liright-eyed,  rose-cheeked,  piquant  little 
lady,  arrayed  in  flowing  amplitude  of  thick  satin,  under 
white  tulle,  blushroses  in  her  brown  braids  and  corsage, 
and  a  fan  fparkling  with  its  jeweled  setting  in  her 
coquettish  band.  It  was  Miss  Helen  Thornton,  beauty, 
belle,  and  hesre:s,  and  u  coquette  born.  You  could  see 
it  in  the  diplomatic  way  she  gave  a  smile  to  this  one,  a 
brilliant  glance  to  that,  a  speaking  droop  of  tlio  eyes  to 
the  other,  and  a  merry  word  to  all ;  but  any  one  inter- 
ested in  watching  her  could  have  seen  she  was  wait- 


M 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


ing  impatiently  for  some  one  yet  to  appear.  Her  eyes 
wandered  every  moment  to  the  door  ;  and  by-and-by 
her  little  foot  began  beating  the  devil's  tattoo  on  the 
carpet,  and  tlic  flusli  that  impatient  waiting  brings, 
began  to  grow  hot  on  her  cheeks.  It  grew  so  palpable 
at  last  that  one  of  the  admirers  about  her  spoke : 

"Are  yon  watching  for  the  Marble  Guest,  Miss 
Thornton,  that  you  look  so  often  at  that  door  ?  Who 
can  the  favored  one  bo,  for  whose  coming  that  im- 
patient watch  is  kept  ?" 

Miss  Thornton  did  not  reply,  but  her  face  sud- 
denly brightened,  and  a  quick  smilo  and  flusli  rose  to 
her  pretty  face.  The  waiting  look  disappeared — the 
watched-for  one  had  evidently  come. 

The  acute  gentleman  who  had  spoken  looked  round 
to  see  a  slender  little  girl,  dressed  in  white  as  became 
her  years,  with  a  face  more  remarkable  for  its  utter 
absence  of  color  tliau  its  beauty,  and  a  gentlemanly  but 
languid-looking  young  man,  suflBciently  well-looking, 
with  blonde  hair  and  complexion,  like  the  girl. 

Was  it  for  these  two  Miss  Thornton  was  waiting, 
then  ?  Hardly,  for  her  eyes  wandered  with  a  look  of 
expectation  once  more  to  the  door,  even  while  she  took 
an  eager  step  forward  to  meet  the  young  girl. 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


60 


**  You  diirling  Una  !"  was  her  cry,  kissing  her  with 
young  lady-like  vim.  "  Why  did  you  nut  come  earlier  ? 
I  am  tired  to  death  waiting  for  you,  and  began  to  give 
you  up.  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  llazelwood?  Merry  Christ- 
mas to  you  !" 

"  You  might  treat  us  all  alike,"  said  Arthur,  as  sho 
shook  hands  with  him.  "  I  hope  you  have  been  wait- 
ing for  me,  too  !" 

"Miss  Thornton  has  been  waiting  for  some  one — 
I'll  answer  for  that !"  said  the  young  man  who  spoke 
before.  "  Come  along  llazelwood — let's  have  a  look  at 
the  dancers." 

"Are  you  two  alone  ?"  asked  Miss  Thornton, 
looking  at  the  door  again.  "  Where's  Eugcuo  and — 
Conway  ?" 

"  Conway's  down  in  the  cloakroom,  talking  to  your 
father,  and  Eugene  will  bo  here  directly.  He  did  not 
leave  the  house  with  us.  What  a  pretty  Christmas  tree 
that  is !" 

Miss  Thornton's  most  radiant  smile  was  on  her  face 
now — what  in  this  last  speech  had  evoked  it,  sho  best 
knew.  Ilcr  Jeweled  fingers  began  playing  with  the 
glittering  trifles  dangling  and  scintillating  from  its 
branches. 


ee 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


*'  Yes,  isn't  it  ?  I  had  tho  greatest  time  choosing 
gifts  and  arranging  them  over  was.  Wluit  kept  you  so 
late  ?" 

"Oh,  tlie  most  wonderful  thing  ever  was  heard  of  I 
Do  you  know  some  one  left  two  children  in  our  hall  to- 
night !" 

"  Two  what  F"  inquired  Miss  Thornton,  opening  her 
eyes.     "  Two  children  !" 

"  Yes,  two  children,  twins,  and  tho  pretiest  ever 
were  scon  !  Wo  don't  know  how  they  ever  came  there, 
or  a  thing  about  it.  Susan,  the  chambermaid,  found 
them  as  she  Avas  going  up  stairs." 

*'  Well,  I  declare  !  Some  poor  person  who  was  not 
able  to  take  care  of  them,  and  knew  how  good  your 
uncle  is,  did  it,  I  dare  say." 

"Oh  no — they  can't  belong  to  a  poor  person  ;  they 
were  beautifully  dressed,  in  silks  and  furs,  and  their 
underclothes  embroidered  lovely !  Besi'^os,  there  camo 
a  note  with  them — that  is  tho  oddest  part  of  the  affair  ; 
and  what  do  you  think  was  in  it  ?" 

"How  should  I  know  ?  Perhaps  it  told  who  they 
were  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  that  is  where  the  wonder  comes  in  !  It 
told  uncle  they  were  his  grandchildren  !" 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


67 


"  What !"  cxclaimtU  Miss  Thornton,  vividly  inter- 
ested.    "  You  never  mean  to  say — " 

"  Yes,  I  do,  too  ;  and  uncle  called  down  the  boys, 
and  we  all  had  a  council  of  war  over  it  before  we  came 
out.     That's  what  detained  us !"  said  Una,  laughing. 

"  0   my  goodness,  and   what   did   they— what  did 

Conway  say  ?" 

"  Well,  you  know  Conway.  He  laughed  as  he  does 
at  everything,  and  began  nursing  them,  treating  the 
whole  thing  as  a  joke  ;  and  Arthur,  he  stared  and  said 
*  By  Jove,'  and  Eugene  turned  as  black  as  a  thunder- 
cloud, and  got  into  one  of  his  tantrums.  I  do  believe 
he  suspects  Conway." 

"Oh,  Una!"  cried  Miss  Thornton,   turning  crim- 
son, "  it  can't  be  true  !' 

"  Of  course  not !  but  it  is  just  like  Eugene  to  sus- 
pect   Conway  for  everything.     He   is  as  jealous   as  a 

Turk !" 

''What  is  he  jealous  about  ?"  asked  Miss  Thornton, 

putting  on  an  innocent  look. 

"You  ask!"  said  Una,   significantly.      "I  should 
think  you  knew  better  than  I  do,  a  poor  simple  little 

schoolgirl !" 

They  both  laughed.     Certainly  she  did  not  look 


68 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


very  simple  just  then.  Miss  Una  Forest  was  wise 
enougli  in  her  generation. 

"  Bat  about  the  children,"  said  Miss  Thorntorn, 
coming  l)ack  to  that  interesting  subject.  **  Was  that  all 
the  letter  said  ?" 

"  It  told  their  names — Evangeline  and  Eosamond — 
pretty,  are  they  not  ?  Also  that  theii  nother's  name 
was  Starr,  and  that  they  were  sent  as  a  Christmas  pres- 
ent by  yours  respectfully,  Santa  Claus.     That  was  all  !" 

'MVell,  it's  the  strangest  thing  I  ever  heard  of. 
Of  course,  the  assertion  m  the  letter  is  false  ?  Your 
cousins  denied  it  at  once,  did  tliey  not  ?" 

"  It  was  too  absurd  to  deny.  It  was  just  a  ruse 
of  the  person  who  left  them  to  make  uncle  keep 
them.  I  heard  Conway  laughing  over  it  with  your 
father,  down-stairs." 

"It  takes  them  a  good  while  to  talk  it  over,  it  seems 
to  me,"  said  Miss  Thornton,  rather  pettishly  ;  '*  hero 
comes  Arthur  back  again — what  does  lie  want  ?'' 

Arthur  wanted  a  partner — there  was  going  to  bo 
a  waltz,  would  Miss  Thornton  favor  him  with  her 
hand  ?  Yo>!,  !Miss  Thornton  was  always  ready  for 
a  waltz;  but  as  she  was  taking  the  proffered  arm 
she  suddenly  halted.     Mr.  Thornton,  an  old  man  of  the 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


eo 


same  stamp  as  Mr.  Hazel  wood — "frosty  but  kindly" — 
was  just  eutoring  with  Conway  Ilazelwood. 

"Wait  one  minute,  Mr.  Artliur,"  was  Miss  Helen's 
cry,  "I  want  to  speak  to  papa." 

Had  Mr.  Conway  Hazelwood  not  been  with  papa,  it 
is  doubtful  whether  the  young  lady  would  have  found 
it  so  necessary  to  stop  on  the  verge  of  the  waltz.  The 
question  she  had  to  ask  was  not  very  important ;  but  she 
got  for  her  pains  a  little  thrilling  hiiiidclaijp  from  his 
companion,  and  a  glance  from  the  dark  bright  eyes  that 
brought  all  her  roses  into  play. 

"What  arc  you  all  about  hero?"  inquired  Mr. 
Thornton.     "  Wliy  arc  you  not  dancing,  Mr.  Arthur  ?" 

"I  am  going  to,  sir,  as  soon  a.-?  Mi-ss  Helen  is  ready." 

"I  am  quite  ready  now.  Oil,  hero  is  the  other 
truant  at  last !" 

Eugene  was  lust  entering.  Conway  glanced  at  him, 
and  then  at  Miss  Thcnton  moving  away  with  Arthur. 

"Engaged  for  the  n)xt  quadrille?  No?  Glad  to 
hear  it !  may  I  have  the  honor  ?" 

Miss  Thornton,  who  would  have  been  only  too 
happy  to  have  danced  through  life  witli  the  speaker, 
Bignilled  her  assent,  and  was  wiiirlcd  away  by  Arthur. 
Half  the  people  in  tiu;  room  were  spinning  round  lile 


70 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


teetotums ;  and  they  floated  in  and  out  among  them, 
until  tired,  and  giddy,  and  fluslicd,  they  subsided  on  a 
sofa.  It  was  in  a  shady  corner,  and  Arthur,  with  the 
inspiriting  music  of  the  German  band  in  his  ears,  and  a 
pretty  young  lady  beside  him,  grew  inspired. 

"I  like  a  nico  firtation 

By  tlie  light  of  a  chandelier, 
With  music  to  fill  up  the  pauses, 

And  nobody  very  near," 

he  quoted.    "  N.  P.  Willis  should  be  in  my  place  now." 

"  To  flirt  with  me  !  You  forget  it  takes  two  to 
make  a  bargain  !   How  do  you  get  on  with  my  portrait  ?" 

"Better  than  I  ever  got  on  with  a  portrait  in  my 
life  ;  but  such  a  sitter  would  make  a  Rubens  of  the 
veriest  dauber  that  ever  smeared  canvas." 

"  Thank  you,  sir  !  I  was  perfectly  sure  you  would 
say  that,"  said  Miss  Thornton,  settling  one  of  her  brace- 
lets with  infinite  composure.  "You  have  made  the 
same  speech  to  every  young  lady  whose  face  you  have 
immortalized,  of  coi  rse." 

"No — I  always  mean  what  I  say  I" 

Miss  Thornton  laughed  outright,  a  most  musical  and 
most  incredulous  little  peal.  Arthur  looked  at  her 
thinkiug  how  proity,   and  graceful,  and  rich  she  was, 


TUB    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


71 


and  what  a  charming  thing  it  would  be  to  carry  her  off 
from  her  host  of  admirers,  with  his  two  brothers  at  their 

licad. 

"You  don't  believe  me  ?"  he  said. 
"Oh,  to  be  sure  I  believe  you  !    Who  could  doubt  a 
gentleman  who  always  means  what  he  says  ?" 

"  Miss  Thornton,  I  mean  more  than  that !    Will  yoa 
believe  me  when  I  say  I  love  you  ?" 
"Mr.  Ilazelwood!" 

"It  is  true,  Helen— I  do  love  you  !  May  I  venture 
to  hope  I  am  not  absolutely  hateful  to  you  r 

Ho  had  gone  through  the  formula  with  remarkable 
composure  for  a  man  whoso  heart's  best  affections,  and 
so  on,  were  at  stake,  and  attempted  at  the  close  of  his 
last  speech  to  take  her  hand.  But  Miss  Thornton 
drew  back  and  rose  up  precipitately. 

"I  am  very  sorry,  Mr.  Arthur,  that  you  should  have 
said  this  !  I  shall  always  be  liappy  to  be  your  friend, 
but—    Oh,  here  is  your  l)rother  !     Pray  excuse  me." 

It  was  not  the  brother  she  wanted  ;  it  was  Eugene 
who  came  to  her  relief  ;  but  she  took  his  arm  with  an 
alacrity  not  very  usual  with  hor  sex,  when  Eugene 
Ilazelwood  was  concerned. 

Eugene's  keen  eye  glanced  from  face  to  face,  from 


73 


TEE    APPLE    OF    DI300RD. 


the  flushed  and  excited  countenance  of  the  girl  to  the 
deeply-mortified  cue  of  his  brother,  and  saw  at  once 
what  had  passed.  It  was  a  characteristic  and  striking 
trait  of  the  Hazelwood  brothers  that  one  of  them  never 
wanted  anything  but  the  others  were  sure  to  cast  a 
covetous  eye  on  the  same.  A  look  of  determination 
settled  on  the  dark  face  of  tlie  vonngcr  brother. 

"ItisA'ory  hot  here — come  into  tlie  conseiTatory  a 
moment.     You  look  flushed,  Miss  Thornton  !" 

"I  have  promised  to  dance  with  Conway,  but  I  sup- 
pose I  have  a  few  minutes  to  spare,  and  it  is  rather 
oi^pressivo  here  !  Is  that  Una  singing 'Love  not  ?'  No, 
it  is  Fanny  Grant — how  well  slie  sings  it !" 

**  'Love  uot !  love  ]u)t  !  0  Avarning  vainly  said  !'" 
Eugene  repeated  after  the  singer.  "Mrs.  Xorton  never 
wrote  anything  truer  in  lier  life.  It  is  an  old  fashion 
the  world  will  adhere  to  to  the  last." 

Miss  Thornton  looked  at  him  an  instant  without 
speaking,  and  glanced  away  again  ;  but  those  piercing 
eyes  read  what  her  lips  had  not  courage  to  speak. 

"Yes,  Miss  Thornton,  I  know  how  to  love,  tiiough 
my  dear  five  hundred  friends  will  hardly  give  me  credit 
for  it.  I  am  not  the  heartless  Orson  they  take  me  to 
be,  for,  Ilelen  Thornton,  I  love  you  I" 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


73 


Miss  Tliornfcou  absolutely  screamed — it  was  so 
unexpected  to  her,  so  almost  shocking,  from  such 
a  quarter. 

"Is  tliat  tlie  way  young  ladies  listen  to  suclx  things, 
Helen  ?"  he  asked,  bitterly,  reading  bis  fate  at  once 
in  lier  undisguised  terror  ;  "or  is  it  only  when  an  ugly 
hunchback  proposes  that  tlicy  shriek  ?  I  repeat  it, 
I  love  you,  I  wish  to  make  you  my  wife— I  will 
do  my  best  to  make  you  happy  !  Am  I  accepted  ? 
Have  the  goodness  to  answer  me — yes  or  no." 

It  was  rather  a  savage,  and  altogether  an  uncom- 
fortable way  of  making  sucli  a  tender  proposal.  Helen, 
witli  a  white  face  and  startled  eyes,  looked  around  her, 
as  if  for  some  means  of  escape,  but  Eugene  held 
her  tight. 

'*  Speak  !"  ho  said,  breathing  hard,  for  he  was  of  a 
most  excitable  temperament ;  "•  speak  !  yes  or  no  !" 

'*  0,  Mr.  Uazehvood,  my— oh,  please  don't  be  angry, 
but— but— " 

"  You  refuse  me,  tlieu  !    Is  that  what  you  mean  ?" 

"0,  Mr.  Ilazelwood,  let  me  go  !  0  Conway,  I  am 
glad  you  liave  eome  !" 

The  cry  came  from  her  friglitened  lieart  and  so  did 
the  eager  spring  she  made  toward  some  one  who  stepped 


74 


THE    APPLE     OF    DISCORD. 


from  behind  some  tull  plants.  It  was  Conway  Hazel- 
wood,  cool,  easy,  nonclialant  as  usual ;  and  Uelcn,  really 
exceedingly  terrified  by  Eugene's  fiery  eyes,  clung  to  him 
as  a  woman  will  to  the  man  she  loves.  That  little  act, 
involuntary  as  it  was,  told  her  secret.  Conway  smiled 
a  little  as  ho  drew  her  closer  to  him. 

"I  beg  you  will  excuse  me,  Eugene,"  he  said, 
looking  at  his  brother,  '' but  I  overhear  your  conversa- 
tion with  Miss  Thornton.  I  could  not  help  it,  and  I 
beg  you  Avill  not  make  a  scene,  as  I  see  you  are  about  to 
do.  If  you  have  anything  to  say  to  me,  wait  until  we 
are  alone.  You  have  startled  Miss  Thornton  sufficiently 
already.    Come,  Helen,  I  have  been  searching  for  you  !" 

There  was  no  mistaking  Helen's  eager  willingness  to 
obey,  and  they  were  gone  almost  before  Eugene  knew  it. 
He  did  not  follow  them  directly.  He  stood  by  the  win- 
dow Conway  had  so  lately  left,  looking  out  on  the 
bright  frosty  night  and  gaslit  street.  The  sounds  of 
music  and  dancing,  laughing  and  merry-making,  came 
to  his  listening  ears  from  the  drawing-room  ;  but 
how  these  revelers  would  have  started  had  they  seen 
the  black  scowl  on  his  brow,  the  terrible  fire  in  his 
weird  eyes  !  For  nearly  half  an  hour  he  lingered 
there,  brooding  over   his  own  ominous  thoughts,   and 


THE    APPLE    OF    DISCORD. 


76 


thcu  ho  turned  aud  walked  slowly  back  to  the  ballroom. 

The  first  he  mot  were  Conway  and  Helen  ;  the  girl  cling- 

ling  fondly  to  his  arm,  her  pretty  face  face  all  aglow  with 

'love,  and  pride,  and  happiness ;  he  smiling,  graceful, 

handsomer  than  ever. 

It  was  quite  plain  he  had  been  following  the  exam- 
ple of  his  two  brothers,  and  had  met  with  a  very  differ- 
ent answer.  Helen  Tliornton  had  got  all  she  wanted, 
and  was  for  the  time  being  perfectly  happy.  But  per- 
fect happiness  in  this  world  is  a  plant  of  very  fragile 
growth,  and  seldom  lives  over  half  an  hour  at  a  time. 

As  her  eyes  fell  on  the  face  of  Eugene,  darkened  by 
a  look  that  was  almost  devilish  in  its  hatred  and  envy, 
she  recoiled,  as  she  had  done  before,  with  a  suppressed 
shriek.  He  spoke  to  neither,  only  glanced  at  them  for 
a  second,  and  was  gone. 

Conway  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"  High  tragedy,  upon  my  honor  !  That  look  would 
make  Eugene's  fortune  on  the  stage  of  the  Bowery 
Theater." 

"0  Conway  !  how  can  you  laugh  ?  I  am  frightened 
to  death  of  him.  I  am  afraid  you  and  he  will  quar- 
rel!" 

"  We  do  that  every  day  of  our  lives,  petite.     Dr. 


76 


TnE    HAZEL  WOODS    AT    HOME. 


Wnits  sings  of  brotherly  love — I  wish  he  were  in  onr 
house  for  a  Avliilc  to  sec  how  we  practice  it." 

"0  Conway,  don't  quarrel  with  him.  Mercy,  don't  1 
Promise  me  you  will  not." 

*'  I  will  not  if  I  can  help  it ;  don't  make  mo  prom- 
ise any  tiling  more.  Come  and  sing  for  me,  dearest ; 
there  is  notliing  to  wear  that  frightened  face  about." 

Is  there  not  ?  Let  your  bride  sing  for  you  while  she 
may,  Conway  Hazelwood,  for  her  singing-days  are 
nearly  over. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE   HAZELWOODS    AT    HOME. 


T  was  after  dinner  in  ^Ir.  Ilazcl wood's.  In 
the  pretty  dining-room,  "curtained,  and 
close,  and  warm,"  a  bright  fire  burned 
cheerily;  and  in  his  cushioned  arm-oliair,  in  genial 
after-dinner  mood,  the  head  of  the  Ilazelwoods  sjit.  To 
bo  genial  was  Mr.  Hugh  Hazelwood's  mood  at  all  times  ; 
but  this  evening,  in  slippers  and  smoking-cap,  one  leg 
crossed  over  the  other,  and  the  ruddy  brightness  of  ilie 


THE    HAZELWOODS    AT    HOME. 


17 


I'tl 


To 


fire  casting  its  warm  reflections  on  liis  face,  he  was 
looking  even  more  genial  than  usual.  Pcrluips  the  fact 
of  his  whole  famjk  being  assembled  around  him  had 
something  to  do  with  Lis  state  of  felicity  ;  for  his  three 
sons  were  present.  A  very  uncommon  sight  indeed  it 
was  to  see  Messienrs  Conway,  Arthur,  and  Eugene 
Hazelwood  dmmg  together  at  home ;  and  the  fact  of 
their  being  tiac-re  this  particular  evening  was  probably 
owing  to  the  dreiiini«tance  of  their  father  having  given 
a  dinner-party  imm  which  they  could  not  very  well  stay 
away.  Tiie  dinnc-r  was  over,  and  the  guests  all  gone 
now,  and  Mrs.  Wood  and  Una  had  just  made  their 
appearance  t-o  mf^uhc  how  the  dinner  had  gone  off. 

"Capitally,  Emily/'  ilr.  Iluzelwood  was  saying, 
"notliing  could  hare  been  better.  The  dinner,  thanks 
to  you  and  the  c»>ok,  was  perfection,  and  thawed  out 
even  our  crusty  friend  Lance.  By  the  way,  Emily," 
with  a  mellow  little  laugh,  "lie  used  to  be  an  old  ad- 
mirer of  your.?.  wa?n'E  ho  ?  lie's  a  rich  man  now,  and 
you  a  fine  woinaa  yet ;  who  knows  what  may  come  of 
this  visit,  eh  r 

Mrs.  Wood,  seated  in  state  in  another  armchair, 
opposite  her  bixjther,  her  ample  form  robed  in  black 
silk,  stiff,  siiilelj  and  rustling,  filling  it  as  if  it  wore 


78 


THE    UAZELWOODS    AT    HOME. 


made  for  her;  the  firc-liglit  and  gaslight  glistening 
on  her  watch-chain,  and  round,  rosy,  good-natured 
face,  her  plump  white  hands,  cased  in  black-lace  mits, 
folded  one  over  the  other  in  her  lap,  actually  blushed 
like  a  girl  of  eighteen  Conway,  leaning  against  tho 
mantel,  his  handsome  face  flushed  with  the  heat  of  tho 
fire,  and  liis  father's  crusty  old  port,  looked  over  at  her 
with  a  laugh. 

"I  thouglit  the  old  fellow  had  somo  deeper  object 
in  coming  hero  than  merely  to  renew  his  acquaint- 
anceship with  the  governor.  So  ho  used  to  be  ono 
of  your  beaux,  auntie  !  By  Jove !  the  idea  of  old 
Lance  in  love  is  as  good  as  a  play  !" 

"  Nonsense,  Conway,  hold  your  tongue  !  Why 
shouldn't  Dr.  Lance  fall  in  love,  if  ho  chooses,  as  well 
as  anybody  else  ?" 

"Conway  thinks,"  said  Una,  who,  robed  in  pale 
blue,  and  looking  very  pretty,  seated  on  an  ottoman,  jit 
her  uncle's  feet,  with  her  profuse  light  hair  all  combed 
back  off  her  face — "  Conway  thinks  no  one  has  a  right 
to  fall  in  love  but  himself,  and  it  has  become  a  chronic 
complaint  with  him." 

Conway  looked  at  the  childish-looking  figure  of  the 
girl  with  an  odd  look.     "  What  do  you  know  about  love. 


THE    III Z/'JL WOODS    AT    HOME. 


TO 


Mademoiselle  ?  Little  girls  should  mind  their  horn- 
hooks  instead  of  talking  of  tlio  grande  passion.  Per- 
haps you  have  heen  taking  private  lessons,  though,  from 
— Eugene,  for  instance?" 

Eugene,  who  sut  at  tahle  playing  solitaire,  and  say- 
ing nothing,  looked  up  at  his  handsome  brother. 

*'  You  would  make  tlie  better  teacher  of  the  two,  my 
good  brother,"  he  said.  "  It  is  your  trade,  y  )U  know. 
As  nature  never  creates  anything  utterly  good  for 
nothing,  tlie  few  brains  she  gifted  you  with,  you  did 
well  to  devote  to  some  purpose,  even  though  it  bo  to  the 
imbecile  one  of  becoming  a  hidy  killer.  It's  the  regular 
profession  of  half  the  kid-gloved  idiots  of  Broadway, 
and  Conway  Ilazelwood  makes  as  good  a  simpleton  as  the 
best  of  them." 

"  Now,  you  boys,  stop  quarrelling,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Wood.  *'  Can't  you  be  agreeable  for  once  ?  We  don't 
enjoy  your  united  society  so  often  that  you  need  fight 
when  we  arc  so  blessed.  Arthur,  what  are  you  doing  ? 
Writing  love-letters  ?" 

"Drawing  Conway's  portrait,"  lisped  the  artist,  who 
had  been  sketching  busily  for  the  last  few  mimitcs. 
"Eugene,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?" 

"An  admirable  likeness,"  said  Eugene,   with  his 


80 


THE    HAZEL  WOODS    AT    HOME!. 


bitter  smile,  and  Una  jumped  up  and  peeped  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  What  a  shame,  Arthur  !  You  ought  to  have  your 
cars  boxed  !  What  do  you  think,  Conway  ?  he  has 
drawn  you  with  a  donkey's  head,  kneeling  before  a  set 
of  simpering  idiots,  who  are  laughing  at  you  behind 
their  fans  I  Give  it  here,  Eugene,  until  I  tear  it 
up." 

The  smile  on  Conway's  face  never  altered. 

*'  Don't  trouble  yourself,  Una ;  it's  only  the  old 
story  of  the  fox  and  the  grapes  over  again.  I  can 
afford  to  be  magnanimous,  after  the  way  they  both  came 
to  grief  the  other  night  at  Miss  Thornton's.  How  does 
it  feel  to  bo  jilted,  Eugene  ?  Was  it  you  or  Arthur  she 
refused  first  ?  Ah  !  you  feel  hurt,  do  you  ?  The  old 
proverb  which  says,  '  They  laugh  best  who  laugh  last ' 
is  a  wiae  one  after  all." 

Eugene's  face  turned  as  dark  as  a  thundercloud,  but 
Arthur  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  went  on  draw- 
ing caricatures  of  his  elder  brother.  Conway  turned 
his  careless,  smiling  face  to  his  father,  who  sat  looking 
uneasy  and  distressed.  "  I  have  a  piece  of  news  for  you 
that  I  think  you  will  like,  father.  You  have  been 
wanting  me  this  long  time  to  quit  my  roving  life  and 


THE    IIAZELWOODS    AT    HOME. 


81 


settle  down  into  a  sensible  married  man.     I  am  about  to 
take  your  advice.     I  am  going  to  bo  married." 

"  My  dear  boy,  and  to  wliom  ?" 

Conway  ran  his  fingers  tlirongh  his  luxuriant,  curl- 
ing hair,  and  looked  at  his  brothers  with  that  galling 
smile  of  triumph,  both  in  his  eyes  and  on  his  lips. 

"There  is  only  one  girl  in  the  city  I  would  marry, 
father  ;  and  I  think  you  will  approve  my  choice.  She 
loves  me  and  I  love  her.  The  young  lady's  name  is 
Helen  Thornton." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  The  eyes  of  Conway 
and  Eugene  met  in  a  long  and  ominous  glance  ;  the  one 
shining  with  that  smile  of  triumph  and  defiance,  the 
other  terrible  wilh  hatred  and  menace.  Arthur,  trying 
to  look  easy  and  indifferent,  went  on  with  his  drawing, 
but  his  hand  shook  and  his  face  flushed. 

Una's  blue  eyes  glanced  stealthily  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  she  alone  saw  the  deadly  menace  in  the  fiery 
eyes  of  Eugene.  Mrs.  Wood,  to  whom  it  was  all  news, 
opened  her  eyes  in  innocent  wonder,  and  Mr.  Hazelwood 
hold  out  his  hand  to  his  eldest  son  in  undisguised 
delight. 

"My  dear  Conway,  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my 
heart.     You  could  not  have  chosen  a  bride  more  accept- 
4* 


83 


THE    UAZELWOODS    /  T    HOME. 


able  to  me,  had  yon  tried  until  doomsday.  LitUo 
Helen  is  the  best  and  prettiest  girl  in  New  York,  and 
old  Thornton  is  worth  a  mint  of  money.  My  dear  boy, 
this  is  indeed  pleasant  news.  AVhen  is  the  affair  to 
come  off  ?" 

"  Do  you  mean  my  marriage,  sir  ?  "Very  ehortly, 
now.  The  precise  day  has  not  been  fixed,  but  it  will  be 
within  a  month,  at  the  furthest." 

"  Then  it  is  all  decided.  Have  you  spoken  to  Mr. 
Thornton  ?"' 

"I  had  an  inteiYiow  with  him  this  morning,  sir. 
He  is  as  much  pleased  as  you  are." 

"  Xo  doubt ;  how  could  ho  be  otherwise,  having 
such  a  son-in-law,"  said  Eugene,  whoso  face  had  turned 
fearfully  white,  though  his  voice  was  as  calm  as  ever. 
"Did  yon  cell  him,  Conway,  of  our  Christmas  present  ? 
Who  knows  bat  the  mamma  of  those  interesting  babes 
may  drop  in  to  wish  you  joy  on  your  wedding-day  ?" 

"With  all  my  heart !  I  shall  bo  very  happy  to  see 
her,  as  any  one  should  be  to  sec  his — sister-in-law  ! 
She  ought  to  be  pretty  too,  judging  by  her  offspring, 
and  I  am  never  so  happy  as  when  in  the  society  of 
pretty  women.  Tell  her  to  come,  Eugene,  by  all 
means  !" 


THE    HAZELWOOBS    AT    HOME. 


83 


"Now,  you  boys!"  Mrs.  ^oocl  once  more  shrilly 
interrupted.  "  Can't  you  stop  fighting  !  You  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves,  you  two,  worrying  your 
father  to  death,  and  leading  us  all  such  a  cat-and-dog 
life  !  If  Miss  Thornton  knew  the  quarrelsome  set 
you  arc,  she  would  jump  into  the  fire,  or  cut  her 
right  hand  off,  before  she  ever  would  sign  her  name 
Mrs.  Ilazelwood." 

Eugene  turned  his  dark,  bitter  face  to  his  aunt, 
with  au  ominous  smile,  prophetic  of  future  evil,  light- 
ing it  still. 

"Eest  easy,  my  good  aunt!  Miss  Thornton  may 
remain  ignorant  of  the  heavenly  life  of  brotherly  unity 
we  lead  here,  and  still  never  sign  her  name  Mrs. 
Conft-ay  Ilazelwood.  When  there  are  two  moons  in 
yonder  sky,  my  dear  elder  brother,  she  may  be  your 
bride— not  before  !" 

Conway  laughed  carelessly. 

"The  age  of  miracles  is  passed,  Eugene.  The 
wedding-day  will  be  in  less  than  a  month  ;  and  there  is 
ii  wise  old  proverb  which  tells  us  barking  dogs  seldom 

bite  !" 

"  And  there  is  another  proverb,  equally  wise,  which 

Bays,  there  is  many  a  slip  between  the  cup  and  lip." 


84 


rilE    nAZFA.WOODS    AT    noMF^. 


"  Quite  Irup  !  We  may  all  die,  and  be  in  our 
graves,  before  that  time  ;  bnt  unless  something  of  that 
kind  occurt!,  II((len  Thornton  will  as  certainly  be  my 
wife  before  another  montli,  as  tliat  Eugene  llazclwood 
was  jilted  Ijy  her  on  Christmas  eve.  Spare  your  threats, 
Eugeno,  I  am  not  afraid  of  you  ;  for  whatever  wonder- 
ful event  stops  our  marriage,  it  is  most  assuredly  not  of 
your  power  to  do  it  !" 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen  !  A  great  deal  may  hap- 
pen in  a  month!  Helen  Thornton  did  refuse  mo, 
did  refuse  Arthur,  and  did  accept  you  on  Christmas 
eve  ;  but  it  is  all  labor  lost.  She  rnay  not  bo  my  wife. 
I  would  not  marry  her  now  if  I  could  ;  but,''  and  he 
rose  from  his  seat,  with  a  wolfish  glare  m  his  fiery  eyes, 
"  but,  Conway  llazclwood,  she  never  will  be  yours  !  Do 
you  hear — never  !" 

The  rest  stared  aghast,  but  careless  Conway,  leaning 
negligently  against  the  mantel,  still  retained  his  provok- 
ing smile. 

"Quite  tragic  that,  ui)on  my  word  !  What  are  you 
going  to  do,  Eugene — murder  us  both  ?" 

There  is  many  a  true  woi.l  spoken  in  jest !  Not  one 
there  but  reincinl)ered  Ihul  (jucstion  so  ligiitly  spoken, 
in  the  terr  ble  after-days.     Eugene  did  not  answer,  only 


THE    IJAZErWOODS    AT    HOME. 


glared  at  his  brother  in  silence,  and  in  either  eye  pat  a 
devil.  Even  languid  Arthur,  despite  the  flimsy  state  of 
all  his  emotions,  looked  ratJier  pale  and  startled;  and 
Mr.  Ilazelwood  rose  from  his  chair,  white  and  stern. 

"Bo}  ■'  he  said,  in  a  tone  seldom  heard  from  those 
kindly  lips,  "no  more  of  this  !  I  command  you  by  the 
authority  of  a  father  to  never  repeat  this  scene  in  my 
prosence.  Shame  on  you,  Conway  !  It  is  well  jour 
mother  is  in  her  grave  before  she  ever  lived  to  hear  her 
first-born,  her  favorite  son,  talk  to  his  younger  ])rother 
like  this  !  Shame  on  you.  Eugfue,  to  allow  your  jeal- 
ousy to  carry  you  so  far  !  Where  is  your  boasted  Avis- 
dom  now  ?  The  best  thing  you  both  can  do  is,  to  go  to 
your  rooms,  take  your  Bibles,  and  read  the  story  of  Cain 
and  Abel.     Go  !  I  am  ashamed  of  you  both  !" 

Ho  sank  down  in  his  seat,  with  one  trembling  hand 
over  his  face.  Dark,  moody,  sullen  Eugene  stood,  but 
Conway  was  bending  over  him  directly,  with  a  remorse- 
ful face. 

"  Father,  forgive  me.  I  should  have  remembered 
before  wiiom  I  was  speaking.  Come,  Eugene,  forget 
and  forgive.  We  botli  of  us  s;iy  more  than  w(>  mc;in,  I 
am  sure  !"  lie  held  out  his  hand,  but  Eugene  turned 
gloomily  away. 


86 


THE    UAZELWOODS    AT    HOME. 


"So  bu  it,  then,"  said  Comvay,  ''war  oi-  peace  ;  itia 
all  the  same  to  me,,  but  I  .sliall  obey  vou,  fathc.  In 
your  presence  such  a  scene  shall  never  take  place 
again." 

Tiiere  was  a  taj)  at  the  door,  and  a  rosy  little  nur- 
sery-maid presented  herseli'  with  a  curtesy  to  Mrs. 
Wood. 

"If  yon  please,  Ma'am,  I  wish  yon  would  come  up 
to  the  nursery.  I  can't  get  Miss  Hazel  to  bed,  and  she 
kee})s  them  twins  awake  with  her  noise,  and  I  can't  do 
nothing  with  none  of  them." 

"  There's  English  for  you,  Una,"  said  Conway,  chuck- 
ing that  young  lady  under  the  chin  as  ho  jiassed. 
"  Come  along,  auntie,  I'll  go  with  you  to  the  nursery. 
I  haven't  seen  '  them  twins '  since  the  night  of  their 
arrival,  and  I  want  another  look  at  them." 

"  Perfectly  natural,"  said  Eugene,  in  a  low,  mocking 
voice,  "  who  would  wish  to  sec  them  if  their  father 
would  not  ?" 

Conway  glanced  at  him  coolly,  no  way  daunted  by 
his  fiery  stare. 

"  At  it  again,  my  good  brother.  I  don't  think  you 
will  stop  until  you  tempt  me  to  thrash  you  within  an 
inch  of  yonr  life — a  feat  yon  know  I  could  easily  accom- 


TUE    HAZELWOODS    AT    HOME. 


87 


plish  !  Come  along,  uuiitio— accei»t  my  arm  to  tlic  nur- 
sery!  Lead  the  way,  Jane,  we  follow  !  G(jo(l  night  all, 
and  pleasant  dreams  !" 

*'  Good  night,  Conway,"  Mr.  Ilazolwood  said  kindly. 

"  Good  night,  cousin,"  Una  repeated,  nestling  close 
to  her  uncle's  side,  and  looking  fearfully  at  Eugene. 

Even   Arthur   wished  good-night,   but  the  younger 

brother  never  spoke  ;  no  effigy  in  marble  could  have 
stood  more  dark  and  motionless  than  he.  But  hand- 
some Conway  only  smiled  at  him,  and  went  out  hum- 
ming the  refrain  of  an  old  French  song  : 

"  To-day  for  mc, 
To-inorrow  for  tliee  1 
But  will  tliat  to-morrow  ever  be  1" 

"  And  if  ever  1  saw  the  old  demon  in  any  human 
face,"  said  ^hs.  Wood,  going  up-stairs,  and  speaking  in 
an  awe-struck  undertone,  '*it  was  in  Eugene's  to-niglifc. 
Be  careful,  Conway  ;  he  is  savage  any  way,  and  tlicro  is 
no  telling  what  jealousy  may  tempt  him  to  do.  Hero 
we  are  at  the  nursery.  Do  hoar  the  roars  of  those  young 
ones  !  and  it's  all  my  Hazel's  fault,  for  the  twins  are  as 
good  as  gold.     Come  in." 


88 


TEE     WEDDING-NIOUT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE   WEDDIXG-XIGHT. 


N  that  same  pleasant  room  where  tlie  Hazel- 
wood  family  had  been  assembled  the  night 
before,  Mr.  Hazelwood,  his  sister,  and  nieco 
pat  at  breakfast.  A  pretty  little  bronze  clock  on  the 
mantel  was  just  chiming  eight — for  the  head  of  the 
Hazelwoods  liked  early  hours — and  the  yellow  wintry 
sunshine  streaming  warmly  through  the  curtained  win- 
doAvs  fell  brightly  on  the  glittering  silver  and  china 
service  :  brightly  nn  the  ruddy,  kindly  face  of  Mr. 
Hazelwood  ;  bri  lilly  on  !Mrs.  Wood's  satin  ribbons  and 
golden  trinkets — for  Mrs.  Wood  made  a  point  of  being 
always  resplendent  to  look  at  ;  and  no  less  brightly  on 
the  pale-gold  hair,  delicate  white  face,  vauX  pretty  morn- 
ing-dress of  blue  merino,  trimmed  with  white,  worn  by 
the  half  Albino,  Una  Forest. 

The  junior  Messrs.  Hazelwood  wore  not  tlioro  ;  it 
would  have  been  most  astonishing  if  they  had  been,  and 
altogether  out  of  the  usual  order  of  tilings.  Eugene, 
though  invariably,  winter  and  summer,  up  at  five, 
rarely  left  his  room  before  eleven,  and  had  his  break- 


Till']     WEDDING-XranT. 


89 


fast  sent  up  to  liitn  at  ten.  Artlmr  never  rose  before 
nine,  and  then  loiingod  down-lown  to  lii.s  studio,  and 
took  his  niatiniil  meal  tlicre.  Conway,  like  Eugene, 
'.vas  an  early  bird  ;  but  he  was  off,  according  to  custom, 
for  a  breezy  morning  ride  through  tiie  park,  and  might 
possibly  drop  in  to  !Mr.  Thornton's  to  breakfast,  or 
patronize  a  restaurant,  or  come  home  any  hour  before 
mid-day,  as  the  humor  took  him. 

The  trio,  then,  at  the  breakfast-table,  had  no  need 
to  wait  for  the  three  truants,  and  went  on  drinking  their 
tea  and  eating  their  muffins  without  them,  qtiite  as  a 
matter  of  course. 

Mrs.  AVood,  at  the  head  of  the  table,  was  holding 
forth  to  her  three  auditors  with  an  energy  and  volubdity 
that  made  her  round,  good-natured  face,  red  enough  at 
all  times,  ten  degrees  redder  than  ever. 

"  And  Avhatever  I  am  to  do  with  her  I  can't  tell," 
she  was  saying.  "  I've  talked  to  lier,  and  I've  whipped 
her,  and  sent  Iier  to  bed  witli  a  spanking  and  no  supper, 
and  it's  all  no  use.     It's  worse  she's  getting,  instead  of 


better,  and   she'll  be 

the 

torment  o 

'.   my  1  i  f e- 

-I  know 

she 

will ! 

Why  don" 

t  you  try  the 

beefsteak, 

Hugh  ? 

It's 

not  too  rare." 

"The 

beefsteak's 

well 

enough," 

said  her 

brother, 

. 

90 


THE    WEDDIXG  NIOHT. 


helping  himself ;  "  {incl  so  is  little  Huzol.  I  like  her  all 
the  better  for  ]iiivin2f  a  little  life.  I  never  ditl  like 
Solomons  in  pinafores,  and  never  will.  Let  the  child  be 
lively  and  have  her  fling  ;  the  world  will  sober  her  soon 
enough." 

"Ilave  her  fling!"  cried  Mrs.  "Wood,  in  tones  of 
indignation.  "That's  all  very  well  for  you  to  say, 
brother,  that  has  none  of  the  bother  ;  but  if  you  had  to 
change  her  clothes  five  times  a  day,  and  then  have  her 
always  looking  as  dirty  as  a  little  pig,  and  if  she  matted 
her  hair  all  in  a  bunch,  after  you  curled  it,  with 
molasses-caudy,  and  smeared  her  face  with  soot  and 
mustard  till  she  looked  like  a — like  a — "  (Mrs.  Wood 
hesitated  for  a  simile  forcible  enough)  "like  a  live 
kangaroo,  after  you'd  washed  it,  and  if  sh'^  screeched 
and  kicked  till  she  turned  black  in  the  face  because  you 
wouldn't  let  her  soak  her  shoes  in  her  soup,  perhaps 
you'd  sing  another  song  than  *  let  her  have  her  fling  !' 
Fling,  indeed  !  It's  nothing  but  fling  she  does  from 
morning  till  night,  and  from  night  till  morning.  Una, 
pass  me  me  your  cup,  and  1*11  give  you  some  more 
coffee." 

Una,   looking    quietly  around,   obeyed ;    and    Mr. 
Hazelwood,  quite  quenched  for  the  time  being  by  this 


THE    WEDDINOmanT. 


91 


eloquent  ontbarst,  ate  liis  stciik  and  toast  in  pen.  ive 
silence.  Mr5.  Woo<],  liaving  replenished  the  empty  cup, 
let  her  t^ifil'mgA  get  the  better  of  her,   and  burst  out 


again  : 


"And  there's  them  twins!  The  life  thoy  lead  with 
that  little  limb  is  too  horrid  to  tliinlc  of  !  Siie  wouldn't 
leave  a  spear  of  hair  in  their  heads,  or  an  eye  in  their 
face  she  womldn't  claw  out,  if  she  had  her  way ;  and  if 
she  does  not  starre  them  yet,  it  Till  be  a  mercy,  for 
they  never  i^t  a  thing  she  doesn't  grab  from  them.  Her 
fling,  ind'eed  !  And  it's  all  Conway's  fault ;  he  will 
fetch  her  cartloads  of  candy,  in  spite  of  everything  I  can 
Bay,  and  teach  her  to  dance  jigs  and  double-shuffles, 
and  EiDg  ECgro  songs  and  all  sorts  of  wickedness  ;  and 
she  minds  fcim,  and  pays  no  more  attention  to  me  or 
Jane  than  if  we  were  two  old  shoes  !  Let  him  wait  till 
he  gets  children  of  his  own,  as  I  tell  him,  and  see  how 
he  likes  it !  But,  then,  it's  of  no  more  use  talking  to 
Conway  tlaan  it  is  to  Ilazcl — he  only  laughs  in  your  face 
and  behaves  worse  tlie  next  minute  than  ever  !     Come 


m 


V 


This  last  invitation  was  in  answer  to  a  rap  at  the  door 
and  Susan  made  her  appearance  with  a  little  three-cor- 
nered note. 


08 


THE    WEDDINONIOHT. 


"It's  foi'  you,  Miss  Uiiii,"  slie  said,  delivering  it, 
**tlie  postman  lias  just  gone." 

Una  tore  tlio  perfumed  note  open  and  ran  over  its 
contents. 

**  Who  is  that  cocked-hat  from,  Snowbird  ?''  inrpiircd 
Mr.  Ilazelwood,  "not  a  love-letter,  I  hope." 

Una  lauglied. 

"  It  sounds  like  one,  uncle.  Listen  and  I'll  read  it 
for  you." 

"My  own  Dear  Darling  Una  :— I  suppose  Con- 
way— dear,  dear  Conway — has  told  you  all  before  this. 
Oh,  I  am  just  tlic  iiai)piest  girl  in  the  Avorld,  and  I  want 
you  to  come  and  see  me  riglit  away.  You  are  to  be  bride- 
maid,  you  know.  Won't  that  be  charming  ?  Wlien 
you  come,  my  dearest,  bring  tliose  darling  twins  with 
you,  if  possible.  I  should  like  to  see  them,  of  all  things. 
Adieu,  love.     Be  sure  to  come  to-day  to  see 


"  Your  loving  friend. 


Helen." 


"From  Miss  Thornton,  eh?  Well,  go,  of  course, 
and  take  Jane  and  the  little  ones  along.  It's  quite 
natural  little  Xelly  should  want  to  see  them.  I  say, 
Emily,"  leaning  over  tlie  table,  his  face  all  agloAV, 
"  isn't  it  fortunate  Conway  is  going  to  make  such 
a  match  ?  Do  you  know,  now,  I  always  was  afraid 
of  that  boy's  going  and   throwing  himself  away  on 


THE     WEDDINO-NTOnT. 


98 


an  opcrii-iliincer,  or  an  uctrc-'s,  or  something  of  that 
sort.  Tliaiik  Heaven  !  liiri  clioico  has  fallen  on  Helen 
Thornton  I" 

*'Aii(l  it  never  would  have  fallen  on  her,"  said 
Mrs.  Wood,  f-hortly,  "you  may  depend,  only  his 
two  brothers  wanted  her.  Oh,  they're  a  preeious  lot 
of  'em,  figiiling  for  everything,  like  so  many  curs 
over  a  bone  !" 

Mrs.  Wood,  despite  her  good-nature,  was  inclined 
to  use  very  forcible  language  sometimes,  and  had,  when 
roused,  a  decided  temper  of  her  own.  Keep  on  the 
right  side  of  her,  and  she  was  sweet  as  summer  cher- 
ries ;  cross  her,  and — well,  you  must  take  the  con- 
Bcquences.  Mr.  Hazel  wood,  being  a  sensible  man, 
never  i)resumed  to  contradict  her  at  such  times,  and 
now  linished  his  coffee,  and  arose. 

**  I  believe  I  have  some  letters  to  write  to-day,  and 
it  is  time  I  was  at  them.  What  a  nuisance  letter-writ- 
ing is !  Una,  give  my  love  to  little  Nelly,  and  tell  her 
I'll  be  lown  in  the  cour>:'e  of  the  day  to  give  it  to  her  in 
pert' in." 

;Mr.  Hazelwood  sauntered  to  the  library,  Mrs.  Wood 
bustled  oil  to  attend  to  her  housekeeping  duties,  and 
Una  went  up  to  the  nursery  to  tell  Jane  to  dress  tlie 


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04 


THE    WEDDTNQ-NIGHT. 


twins,  and  hold  '  orself  in  readiness  to  accompany  her 
to  Miss  Thornton's.  Then  she  tripped  np  to  her  own 
pretty  chamber  to  array  lierself  in  street-costume, 
and  half  an  hour  after  reajipeared,  looking  very  fair 
and  charming,  in  a  most  becoming  hat  witli  blue 
ribbons  and  white  plumes,  a  dark-bluo  velvet  cloak 
trimmed  with  white  furs,  that  set  ofE  her  satin-smooth 
skin  and  redundant  light  hair  to  perfection. 

"Are  you  ready,  Jane?"  she  inquired,  opening  tho 
nursery  door. 

Yes,  Jane  was  quite  ready,  and  so  were  Misses  Rosa- 
mond and  Evangeline.  Very  lovely  the  two  latter 
young  creatures  looked,  in  short  frocks  and  capes  of 
rose-colored  merino  elaborately  braided,  their  long  black 
ringlets  freshly  curled  falling  from  beneatli  crimson 
hoods,  their  eyes  like  black  stars,  their  cheeks  rosy 
flame.  IIow  to  tell  one  from  the  other  seemed  a  mys- 
ery  at  first,  but  Una's  keen  blue  eyes  were  never  at  a 
loss.  She  had  discovered  that  Evangeline  was  a  little 
bit  taller,  a  little  longer  every  way,  and  had  much  more 
of  a  temper  of  her  own  than  her  sister,  but  tho  strong 
likeness  puzzled  every  one  else.  They  followed  Jane 
now  down-stairs  after  Una,  and  got  into  a  little  carriage 
that  Conway  had  sent  home  for  their   use.     Tho  dis- 


THE     WEDDING-NIQET. 


U 


tanco  to  Mr.  Thornton's  was  short,  tho  day  mild  and 
sunshiny,  and  Una  was  a  good  walker.  As  they  went 
down  iho  avenue,  every  one  they  met  turned  to  look 
after  the  pretty  girl  in  blue,  and  the  two  beautiful  cnil- 
dren  in  rose  and  crimson.  Una  returned  every  look 
"with  an  American  girl's  cool  stare,  until  she  reached 
her  friend's  house.  A  servant  in  livory  admitted  them. 
Miss  Thornton  was  ut  home,  and  as  Una  was  sending  up 
her  card,  came  flying  down  stairs,  in  a  white  morning- 
wrapper,  and  in  a  state  of  deligiited  excitement,  and, 
catching  Miss  Forest  in  her  arms,  kissed  her  raptur- 
ously a  dozen  times. 

"You  darling  girl  I  how  good  of  you  to  come  right 
away  after  receiving  my  note  !  0  Una  !  isn't  it  all  de- 
lightful, and  ain't  you  glad  !" 

"  Very  glad,  Helen,  and  so  are  all  at  home.  Uncle 
sends  his  love,  and  says  he  will  come  to  sec  you  some- 
time to-day." 

"  What  a  kind  soul  he  is  !  isn't  he,  Una  ?  Oh,  are 
these  tho  twins  ?  Why,  what  a  pair  of  beauties  they 
are  !    0  Una  !  they  are  perfectly  lovely  !" 

"  Yes,  they  arc  very  pretty.  Do  you  think  they  look 
like  any  one  you  have  ever  seen  ?" 

Miss  Thornton  looked  up  with  a  sly  little  laugh. 


06 


THE    WEDDINO-KIOHT. 


"  They  look  like  the  Iliizol  woods,  Una  !  I  begin  to 
believe  thut  note  after  all," 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  Jane,  you  can  wait  here.  Let  us 
go  uivstairs,  Helen  ;  you  can  inspect  the  little  ones  there 
at  your  leisure." 

Miss  Thornton,  holding  one  of  the  twins  in  her  arms, 
led  the  way  to  her  boudoir,  wliile  Una  led  the  other  by 
the  hand.  Here,  propitiated  by  slices  of  plumcake, 
Miss  Evangeline  and  Rosamond  allowed  themselves  to 
bo  inspected  without  protest. 

**  Oh,  they  are  perfect  loves  !"  Miss  Thornton,  who 
was  a  little  of  the  gushing  order,  cried  rapturously. 
"Such  splendid  eyes,  such  beautiful  curls,  such  a  lovely 
complexion  !  Do  you  know  I  admire  brunettes  ever  so 
much  more  than  blondes ;  don't  get  angry.  Belle  Blonde, 
at  my  saying  so." 

"Not  I ;  Conway  is  dark  !" 

"  Dear,  dear  Conway  !  0  Una,  isn't  he  divinely 
handsome,  and  won't  Fanny  May,  and  Rose  White,  and 
all  the  girls  go  mad  with  envy  when  they  hear  ot  it ; 
half  of  them  were  dying  for  him,  I  declare  !" 

Una  knew  very  well  that  half  of  the  young  ladies  in 
her  set  would  have  given  a  year  of  their  lives  to  stand 
in  Helen  Thornton's  shoes,  and  she  laughed  : 


THE    WEDDING-mOBT. 


97 


**  More  fools  they  ;  ho  isn't  such  a  prize.  There, 
don't  trouble  yourself  to  get  angry,  Helen,  I  know  him 
better  than  you  do.     When  is  it  to  come  off  ?" 

"The  wedding  ?  Oh,  the  d;iy  has  not  been  named 
yet ;  but  it  will  be  soon,  I  suppose.  Conway  is  so 
imi)aticnt,  you  know  ;  and  you,  my  dear,  darling  Una, 
are  to  be  bridemaid,  first  bridcmaid,  too  !  Won't  that 
bo  nice?  One  wedding  makes  many,  they  say;  who 
knows  but  it  may  bo  your  turn  next  ?" 

**  Bah  !  I  am  only  a  schoolgirl !  What  would 
uncle  and  auntie  say  if  they  heard  you  talk  like  that  ?" 

"  Your  uncle  talks  like  that,  himself.  Papa  says  he 
intends  you  for  Eugene." 

The  milk-white  skin  of  Miss  Forest  could  by  no 
possibility  redden,  but  there  came  a  strange  glitter  into 
her  pale-blue  eyes  at  this  {illusion. 

"  Does  he  ?  Perhaps  Eugene  himself  will  have  a 
word  to  say  about  that.  Is  it  true  you  refused  him  the 
night  of  the  party  ?" 

"Oh  my  goodness  !"  Miss  Thornton  cried,  lowering 
her  voice  and  glancing  at  the  door,  as  if  she  expected  to 
see  the  dark  gloomy  face  of  Eugene  Ilazclwood  there. 
"  I  shall  never  forget  his  look  that  niglil,  as  long  as  I 
live  !    0  Una,   I  can't  tell  you  how  frigli toned  I  am  of 


08 


THE    WEDDmOmOHT. 


liim  !  Don't  you  marry  him  for  any  one.  I  would  as 
6pon  marry  a  wild  Indian." 

"I  won't  marry  him,"  Una  said  quietly,  "and  I  am 
pretty  sure  I  will  never  bo  asked,  Rosie,  you  are  soiling 
all  your  dress  with  that  eake — throw  it  away." 

Miss  Thornton  was  instantly  off  on  another  tack, 
and  in  raptures  again. 

"What  a  love  of  a  name  !  Rose  of  the  World  and 
Evangeline  !  Eve-star  you  ouglit  to  call  her.  01),  whot 
pets  they  both  arc  !  Do  you  know,  Una,  when  Conway 
and  I  come  back  from  our  bridal-tour,  I  mean  to  make 
him  adopt  them  both.  I  sliould  love  to  have  two  such 
beauties  to  dress  and  pet  !" 

"Perhaps,  too,  you  think  like  Eugene,  that  Con- 
way has  tlie  best  right  to  tlicm." 

Helen  laughed  ^r'lod  naturedly. 

**  NHmporte,  wa  chcre.  Thoy  look  like  the  Ilazel- 
woods,  I  tell  you  ;  anybody  with  eyes  can  see  it !  Come, 
try  and  speak.  Wluit's  your  name,  love  ?"'  taking  one 
of  them  in  her  arms,  *'  Which  is  which,  Una  ?" 

"That  one  is  Evangeline  ;  she  speaks  the  plainest  of 
the  two." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  tell  them  apart !  Where 
is  your  mamma,  pet?" 


TEE     WEDDINO  NIGHT. 


99 


**  Morel"  was  tho  little  one's  answer,  like  a  female 
Oliver  Twist,  as  she  pointed  to  the  cake-plate  j  "more 
cake  !" 

"  No  ;  she  must  not  have  any  more,"  said  Una, 
"she  will  be  sick  !  There,,  send  her  home  with  Jane — 
she  can't  tell  3'ou  any  tiling  about  her  mamma.  I  wish 
she  could  1    Shall  I  ring  for  Jane  to  take  them  home  ?" 

"You  may  ring  if  you  like  1  I  want  you  to  go 
shopping  with  mo  ;  I  have  got  such  lots  and  lots  of 
things  to  buy.  Oh,  my  gi*acious  !  I  shall  wear  white, 
of  course,  Una,  and  you  had  better  wear  pink ;  you  are 
so  very  fair,  it  will  become  you  bettor  than  anything 
else.     Good-bye,  darlings  ;  kiss  me  before  you  go  !" 

The  twins,  grateful,  perhaps,  for  the  devoured  cake, 
kissorl  the  bride-elect,  and  allowed  themselves  to  be  led 
off  by  their  nurse. 

The  shopping  that  day  was  a  weighty  affair.  Miss 
Thornton  came  back  with  the  carriage  full  of  parcels 
and  her  purse  several  hundred  dollars  lighter  than  when, 
she  started.  Una  staid  till  late  in  tho  afternoon,  and 
then  put  on  her  hat  to  go  home. 

"  Conway  is  coming  this  evening,  and  the  time  is  to 
be  fixed,"  was  Helen's  parting  address.  "  I'll  make  him 
tell  you  as  soon  as  he  goes  back  1    Good-bye,  love  ;  come 


100 


THE     WKDDINO-NIOnT. 


back  again  to-morrow.     I  shall  bo  so  busy  I  can't  got  on 
without  you." 

Una  did  not  see  Conway  that  evening.  It  was  the 
"weo  sma' hours  ayont  the  twal,"  as  usual,  before  his 
latchkey  turned  in  the  lock,  and  lie  went  whistling  up- 
stairs to  bed ;  but  next  morning,  on  her  way  down  to 
breakfast,  she  espied  his  door  ajar  and  peeped  in. 

"  Is  it  you,  Conway  ?  Have  you  any  message  for 
me?" 

Conway,  busily  arranging  his  cravat  at  the  mirror, 
turned  round. 

"  Good  morning,  Mademoiselle.  Yos,  I  believe 
Helen  sent  you  word  to  be  ready  at  throe  this  afternoon, 
to  go  shopping  with  her.  She  will  call  for  you  in  the 
carriage." 

"And  when  is  the  great  event  to  come  off  ?" 

'*  In  a  fortnight,  I  believe.  Oh,  hang  this  necktie. 
I  shall  have  to  employ  a  valet,  I  believe,  to  dress  mo 
decently." 

Una  opened  her  light-blue  eyes  to  their  widest  ex- 
tent. "  Good  gracious,  Conway  !  In  a  fortnight  ? 
"What  a  hurry  you're  in.  Helen  co,nnot  get  ready  in 
that  time." 

"  Yes,  she  can.    She  doesn't  need  to  carry  all  the 


' 


THE  wEDDma-NianT. 


m 


drygoods  in  Now  York  with  her.  She  can  got  a  full 
supply  in  Paris." 

"But  it's  so  sudden.     I  had  no  idea." 

**  Neither  had  I ;  but  you  see,  my  dear  'since  it  must 
be  done,  'twere  well  'twere  done  quickly';  that's  Shakes- 
peare. The  reason  is,  some  friends  of  Helen  start  for 
Paris  in  a  fortnight,  and  wo  want  to  go  all  together,  like 
Brown's  cows.  Thoic,  that  tie's  fixed  to  perfection, 
thanks  to  patience  and  perseverance  !  And  now  suppose 
wo  go  down  and  try  Aunt  Emily's  coffee." 

A  little  after  three,  the  carriage  of  Miss  Tliornton 
drew  up  before  Mr.  Hazelwood's  door,  and  Una,  all 
ready  and  waiting,  was  handed  in,  and  the  two  young 
ladies  drove  off.  intent  on  that  business  wherein  the 
heart  of  every  woman  dclightoth.  And  that  was  but 
tho  begining  of  tlio  end  ;  every  day  during  the  week  saw 
the  same  transaction  repeated,  as  Mr.  Thornton's  check- 
book could  abundantly  prove.  Upliolsters,  dressmakers, 
and  milliners  filled  the  liouse.  Una  became  domiciled 
there  altogether.  Miss  Thornton,  by  no  possibility, 
could  exist  without  her  in  such  a  trying  time.  The 
rumor  of  the  marriage  became  noised  abroad,  and  Fifth 
avenue  had  a  copious  theme  to  gossip  about  fkt  its 
morning  calls  and  evening  reunions.    The  course  of  true 


103 


THE    WEDDTNONIGnT. 


lovo  was  flowing  as  smoothly  as  a  mill-dam  not  even  the 
faintest  zephyr  to  nifllo  its  sunshiny  surface,  not  one 
faint  shadow  of  the  Uuck  cloud  gathering  so  swiftly  and 
terribly  darkening  its  radiance.  Eugene  Ilazelwood's 
threats  seemed  to  have  evaporated  into  empty  air — that 
young  gentleman  himself  had  disappeared  suddenly 
from  public  view,  had  gone  off  on  some  wildgoosc  chase 
or  other,  and  deprived  the  Emi)iro  City  of  tlie  light  of 
his  countenance  altogether.  Artliur  lounged  more  than 
ever  in  his  Broadway  studio,  smoked  more  cigars  and 
drank  more  pale  sherry  than  was  good  for  him,  but 
otherwise  seemed  in  no  danger  of  injuring  his  constitu- 
tion from  being  crossed  in  love. 

So  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage-bell,  and  the  fort- 
night flew  by  on  rosy  wings,  and  the  happy  day  dawned, 
all  sunshine  and  bland  breezes.  Eleven  was  the  hour 
the  bridal  party  were  to  be  at  church,  and  the  yellow 
January  sunshine  streaming  through  the  curtained 
windows  of  Miss  Thornton's  boudoir,  saw  the  dainty 
little  clock,  of  gold  and  ebony,  on  the  mantel,  pointing 
its  glittering  hands  to  the  hour  of  ten.  It  saw,  too, 
Helen  Thornton,  bewildering  in  bridal  white,  her  bridal 
vail  and  wreath  on  her  head,  and  Una  Forest,  looking 
like  a  pale  rosebud,  in  pink  and  white,  at  the  head  of  a 


THE   WEDnrNO-Nranr. 


i03 


bevy  of  briglit-fiicod  briJcmiiida,  similarly  attired. 
Tlicy  were  all  laughing  and  chatting  together,  when  a 
servant  came  to  the  door  with  a  note. 

"For  me,"  said  Helen,  in  surprise,  "  who  brought 
it,  May  ?" 

The  i)ostman  had  brought  it,  the  girl  said  ;  and 
the  bride  tore  it  ojien,  and  uttered  an  exclamation  as 
she  read  it. 

*'  What  a  strange  note  !    Read  it,  Una." 

Una  took  it,  and  read  : 

"  Lot  Miss  Tliornton  be  in  the  conservatory  a  quarter 
after  ten  on  her  wedding  morning,  and  wait  there  for  a 
visitor,  wlu)  will  tell  her  a  secirct  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance. She  must  be  alone,  as  the  secret  is  for  no  ears  but 
hers.  Let  nothing  i)rcvent  her  complying,  or  something 
will  pnnont  her  marriage.  She  need  have  no  fears. 
This  note  comes  from  A  Friend." 


"Anonymous  !"  said  Una.     '*  Wiiat  will  yon  do  ?'* 
*'I  Ghould  like  to  go,"  said  Ili'lcn,  looking  intensely 

curious.     "  Is  it  not  mysterious  ?     Who  can  it  be  from, 

and  what  can  the  secret  be  ?" 

*'  1  haven't  the  faintest  idea.     It  contains  a  throat, 

too,   if  you  do  not  comply.     Perhaps  you  had  better 

show  it  to  your  father." 


104 


TIIR     WEDDING  NIOHT. 


"  Oh  no  !  Papa  never  would  lot  mo  go,  and  my 
curiosity  is  excited.  I'll  tell  you — don't  suy  anything  to 
the  rest  about  it,  and  I  will  go,  and  make  Lizetto  keep 
watch  at  a  safe  distance.  I  would  give  the  world 
to  know  what  .no  secret  is." 

'*  Well  if  you  think  there  is  no  danger." 

Helen  laughed.  ''Danger!  You  little  gooso !  in 
broad  daylight,  and  in  my  father's  house  !  You  run 
and  find  Lisette,  and  tell  her  to  wait  in  the  music-room, 
it  overlooks  the  conservatory,  and  I  will  go  and  see  what 
comes  of  it." 

"You  won't  wait  long  ?" 

"No  ;  if  my  mysterious  visitor  docs  not  make  her  or 
his  appearance  by  half-past  ten,  I  will  wait  no  longer. 
Be  olf  now,  while  I  go  to  the  conservatory  ;  it  is  a  quar- 
ter past  ten  now." 

Una  and  Helen  went  out  together,  telling  the  flock 
of  bridemaids  they  would  soon  return. 

Ten  minutes,  and  Mary  the  chambermaid  reappeared. 

*'  Miss  Helen,  there  is  a  gentleman — why,  she  is  not 
here !" 

"  No,"  said  one  of  the  young  ladies,  **  she  has  gone 
with  Miss  Forest  to  the  conservatory.  Has  Mr.  Hazel* 
wood  come  ?" 


THE     WKDDING-NrGIIT. 


lOS 


"  Yes,  Miss,  but  it's  Mr.  Eugene,  not  ^U.  Conway  I 
In  the  conservatory.  I'll  l)riiig  him  u; .  '  o  says  he  wants 
to  see  lior  on  important  matters." 

Mary  liastoned  ol!,  ami  Una  entered  a  few  minutes 
after  alono. 

"  Wiiere's  Helen,"  the  girls  asked.  "  It's  half-past 
ten  ?    Isn't  Mr.  Hazel  wood  come  yet  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  know  of.     It  is  time  enough  !" 

**  Perhaps  something  has  happened,  and  his  brother 
has  come  here  to  tell  her  I" 

"His  brother  I    Is  Arthur  hero  ?" 

"  No,  Eugene.  IIo  told  the  ser\rant  his  business  was 
important,  and  she  has  shown  him  into  the  conservatory. 
I  thought  you  were  there  with  Helen." 

Una  looked  at  the  speaker. 

"Eugene  !  impossible  !  Eugene  is  not  in  the  city  I" 

"  Perhaps  ho  has  returned.  May  said  it  was  Eugene  ; 
and  she  knows  him  very  well.  0  ray  goodness  !  if  any- 
thing should  have  happened  !" 

Una's  heart  suddenly  stood  still.  All  his  threats 
came  back  to  her  memory.  What  if  the  note  came  from 
him  ? 

Some  one  tapped  at  the  door.     It  was  May,  for  the 

third  time. 
5* 


lOG 


THE    WEDDIXG-NIQET. 


"Old  Mr.  Hazelwood  and  Mr.  Conway  are  down 
stairs ;  and  Mr.  Thornton  sends  his  compliments,  and 
says  it  is  a  quarter  of  eleven,  and  time  the  young  ladies 
were  down-stairs." 

"May,"  Una  a^ked,  hurriedly,  "are  you  sure  it  is 
my  cousin  Eugene  who  is  with  Miss  Helen  in  the  con- 
servatory ?" 

"  Yes,  Miss  ;  but  he's  not  there  now.  He  is  just 
gone  ;  he  only  stayed  a  few  minutes." 

Una  turned  hastily,  and  without  a  Avord,  in  the 
direction  of  the  conservatory.  Its  glass  doors  lay  wide 
open,  and  as  she  entered  she  saw  Helen  Thornton  at  the 
further  end,  half-lying,  half-sitting  on  a  lounge,  her 
face  drooped  on  the  pillows,  her  white  bridal  dress 
falling  around  her  like  a  cloud.  Her  strange  position 
and  stillness  struck  a  chill  to  the  girl's  heart. 

"  Helen  !"  she  called. 

But  Helen  did  not  stir. 

"  Helen  !"  she  rc]>eate«-l,  drawing  nearer. 

But  the  bride  nv.  er  moved. 

There  was  a  jjeculiar  odor  through  the  apartment 
that  could  be  perceived  even  above  the  iicrfume  of  the 
flowers,  the  odor  of  bitter  almonds.  Una  noticed  it  dis- 
tinctly as  she  bent  over  the  still,  white  form. 


THE    TEAOEDY   BLACKENS. 


107 


« Helen!  Helen!"  she  cried,  catching  her  by  the 
■Ttti.     "  0  Holen  !  wliat  is  the  matter  ?" 

She  (li-()pi)ecl  tlie  arm,  and  recoiled  in  horror  even 
■irlLile  slio  spoke.  No  need  to  ask  what  was  the  matter. 
On  hei-  biiiLil  morning,  in  her  bridal  robes,  Helen 
Tlioml-on  hiy  before  her— dead  !  Quite  dead  !  Growing 
C8).M  al/eady,  wiLii  foam-crusted  lips  and  ghastly,  dis- 
ttsarted  face — stark  and  dead  ! 


^CHAPTER   Vn. 


THE  TRAGEDY  BLACKENS. 


JOXWAY  HAZELWOOD,  like  a  true  lover, 
never  so  lia])py  as  w^-^n  in  the  presence  of 
his  iilol,  had  spent  his  wedding-eve  at  the 
hm^  of  his  bride  elect.  It  had  been  a  very  pleasant 
eueain.:!,  and  Conway  had  stayed  late.  Una  was  there, 
aad  so  were  the  throe  other  pretty  bridesmaids,  and 
ttBuree  or  four  young  gentlomen,  cousins  of  Helen's;  and 
tluere  had  been  music,  and  dancing,  and  singing,  and 
cluimpagne,  and  a  little  flirting  ;  and  altogether,  Con- 
way had  a  very  agreeable  time.     The  clocks  of  the  city 


108 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


were  striking  the  hour  of  midnight — that  most  solemn 
of  all  hours,  the  mysterious  link  between  night  and  day, 
as  he  walked  down  Fifth  avenue,  with  a  happy  glow  at 
his  heart.  The  night  was  mild  and  moonlit,  and,  late  as 
it  was,  Conway  sauntered  past  his  own  home,  without 
going  in.  IIo  looked  up  at  it  as  he  went  by ;  but  one 
light  burned  in  the  whole  front,  and  that,  to  his  sur- 
prise, came  from  the  room  of  Eugene. 

"Can  that  tender  younger  brother  of  mine  have 
returned  from  his  pilgrimage  ?"  was  his  thought ;  "but 
no,  I  suppose  it  is  my  worthy  aunt,  or  one  of  our  satc- 
lites,  the  housemaids.  I  think  I  know  on  what  wild- 
goose-chase  the  dear  boy  has  been  on — God  Ri)eed  him 
in  his  search  !" 

He  laughed  to  himself,  and  taking  his  cigar-case 
from  his  pocket,  lit  a  weed,  and  sauntered  on  his  way. 

There  were  few  abroad  at  that  hour  on  the  aristo- 
cratic avenue  ;  ho  met  no  one,  save  a  solitary  "guar- 
dian of  the  night,"  wandering  up  and  down  his  beat 
like  an  uneasy  ghost,  in  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons. 
He  did  not  see  the  dark  shadow  creeping  behind  him,  a 
man  light  and  soft  of  stop  ;  wearing  a  long  overcoat,  a 
muffler  wrapped  round  his  throat  and  hiding  half  his 
face,  a  soft  hat  with  a  broad  brim  pulled  over  his  eyes  ; 


TUB    TliAOEDT    BLACKENS. 


109 


a  man  who  had  dogged  him  since  lie  left  the  house  of 
his  betrothed,  skulking  in  the  shadow  always — treading 
with  cat-like  softness — slouching  under  the  shade  of 
houses,  stopping  when  he  slackened  his  pace,  and  never 
losing  sight  of  him  for  a  moment ;  a  man  who  followed 
him  into  Broadway  when  he  entered  that  thoroughfare, 
keeping  him  ever  in  view,  and  ever  lagging  behind 
him. 

There  was  life  and  light  still  on  busy  Broadway, 
though  the  theaters  had  emptied  themselves  long  ago, 
and  pedestrians  enough  were  passing  up  and  down  to 
enable  the  skulking  shadow  in  the  overcoat  to  follow 
unnoticed.  He  seemed  to  have  lost  the  wish  to  do  so, 
however  ;  for  as  Conway  loitered  for  a  second  on  the 
pavement  to  produce  a  fresh  cigar,  he  came  up  and  ad- 
dressed him  : 

"  Good  night,  sir  !  I  have  the  honor  of  speaking  to 
Mr.  Conway  Hazclwood,  have  I  not  ?" 

Conway  turned  and  looked  at  him,  but  the  muffler, 
the  long  coat,  and  slouched  hat  baffled  recognition. 

"  You  have  the  advantage  of  me,  my  good  fellow, 
whoever  you  are,"  he  said,  pulling  away  coolly  at  hia 
newly-lit  cigar. 

**  Which  I  mean  to  keep — since  it  is  of  no  conse- 


110 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


quence  to  yon  to  know  who  I  am  I    To-morrow  is  your 
wediling-tliiy,  Mr.  Ilazelwood  ?" 

"  Is  it  ?  Have  you  come  to  forbid  the  mariago  ?" 
Could  careless  Conway  liave  seen  the  devilish  light 
that  leaped  into  the  eyes  under  the  slouched  hat  at  the 
question,  he  might  have  recoiled  in  horror,  fearless  as  ho 
was  He  did  not  see  it,  however  ;  and  the  strange  man's 
voice  was  as  calm  as  his  own,  when  he  answered  : 

"No;  with  Mr.  Ilazelwood  or  his  marriage  I  have 
nothing  to  do.  I  am  merely  the  agent  and  emissary  of 
another — a  friend  of  yours,  who  for  to-night  only  de- 
sires to  remain  unknown.  That  friend  has  a  secret  for 
your  ear,  a  most  important  secret,  which  may  influence 
your  whole  future  life.  That  friend  will  be  at  the  resi- 
dence of  your  bride  to-morrow  morning,  to  meet  and  tell 
it  to  you.  The  ceremony  takes  place  at  eleven  ;  at  half- 
past  ten,  then,  he  desires  you  will  meet  him  in  tlie  con- 
servatory ;  .\t  all  events,  bo  there  a  quarter  before  eleven. 
It  is  a  matter  of  lifo-and-death  importance  on  which  he 
would  speak — it  is  also  to  be  kept  a  profound  secret — 
you  are  to  tell  no  one  of  this  matter  until  you  have  heard 
all  to-morrow.  The  reasons  for  this  secrecy  will  explain 
themselves,  he  bids  me  say,  when  you  have  heard  what 
he  has  to  reveal." 


THE    TliAOEDY    SLAOEEN'S. 


Ill 


They  had  been  walking  on  side  by  side  all  this  time 
— the  stranger  speaking  rai)idly,  and  Conway's  face  a 
sight  to  see,  in  its  astonishment  and  mystification. 
Now  he  took  tlio  cigar  from  between  his  lips  and 
stopped  resolutely  on  the  sidewalk,  staring  at  the 
speaker. 

"My  most  mysterious  friend,  what  on  earth  is  all 
this  lecture  about  ?  Are  you  reheai'sing  a  scone  from 
the  last  melodrama,  or  arc  you  an  escaped  lunatic  ? 
You  liave  been  talking  now  for  the  last  ten  hwiiutes, 
and  I  give  you  my  word  I  was  as  wise  before  you  began 
as  I  am  now  at  the  end.  Speak  out,  man,  whoever  you 
are,  if  you  have  anything  to  say.  Who  is  this  mysteri- 
ous unknown,  and  what  mighty  secret  is  to  bo  revealed 
to  me  ?" 

"You  will  learn  that  when  to-morrow  comes  I  I 
have  fulfilled  my  task  ;  yours  is  a  very  easy  one.  Per- 
mit me  to  bid  you  good-night !" 

"Not  so  fast,  my  friend,"  said  Conway,  collaring 
him  suddenly  ;  "you  are  a  great  deal  too  romantic  and 
interesting  a,  personage  to  be  parted  with  so  easily. 
Come,  sir  !  off  with  that  hat,  and  let  us  see  what  man- 
ner of  man  you  are  !" 

"  You  need  not  strangle  me,  then,"  said  the  stranger, 


iia 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


partiiilly  lifting  his  hat  and  showing  Conway  a  shining 
bhick  face  beneath.  "I  hope  you'll  know  me  when  we 
meet  again.  Good-night,  Mr,  Ilazelwood,  I  wish  you 
and  your  bride  all  sorts  of  joy  !" 

With  a  sudden  ellt)rt  he  jerked  himself  free,  and, 
turning  round  a  corner,  disappeared. 

Conway  heard  an  aggravating  laugh  of  triumph,  and 
darted  after  him,  but  the  man  had  turned  down  a  lonely 
street,  and  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  He  looked  up  and 
down,  but  the  street  was  lonely  and  deserted  ;  the  man 
was  gone. 

Conway  Hazel  wood  drew  a  long  breath  as  he  turned 
back  into  Broadway. 

**  Well,  here's  an  adventure  I  Now,  if  I  were  given 
to  romance,  I  might  think  my  brain  was  a  little  turned, 
and  that  I  was  rehearsing  a  scene  from  the  '  Castle  of 
Otranto,'  or  some  such  rubbish  as  that ;  but  this  is  the 
nineteenth  confcnry,  and  I  am  in  Broadway  !  It  can't 
be  Eugene  ;  it  was  neither  his  voice  nor  figure  ;  but  it 
may  be  some  trick  of  his.  By  Jove  !  I've  hit  it  1  I 
wonder  what  he  means  to  do  when  he  gets  me  in  the 
conservatory  ?  Blow  my  brains  out,  probably,  though 
Dr.  Lance  labors  under  the  notion  that  I  have  none  to 
blow  out.     Thank  you,  my  dear  brother,"  he  said,  half 


'      \ 


THE    TRAGEDY   BLACKENS. 


113 


aloud,  taking  off  his  hat,  "don't  you  hope  I  may  go 
there  ?" 

A  Fifth  avenue  stage  was  passing — ho  hailed  it,  and 
was  set  down  at  his  own  door.  Ho  looked  up  at 
the  window  from  wliicli  the  light  had  been  gleaming 
when  he  went  past  before  :  it  burned  no  longer — 
the  whole  house  was  silent  and  dark. 

Conway  let  himself  in  with  liis  latchkey,  and  went 
noiselessly  up  to  his  room. 

"I  will  find  out  to-n.^irow  whether  Eugene  has 
returned,  or  not,"  was  his  last  thought;  "and  now  to 
sleep,  and  to  dream  of  Ilelen's  bright  eyes  and  to-mor- 
row's happiness  !" 

To-morrow's  happiness,  iiulccd  !  Well  for  Conway 
Hazclwood  ho  knew  not  what  tluit  momentous  to-mor- 
row was  to  bring,  or  liis  slumbers  would  scarcely  have 
been  so  peaceful  and  prolonged. 

His  watcli  was  pointing  to  the  hour  of  nine  before  he 
opened  his  eyes  on  this  mortal  life,  and  sjjrang  up  in 
considerable  consternation. 

"  Nine  o'clock,  by  George  !  I  should  have  been  up 
and  doing  two  hours  ago.  It  will  be  after  ten,  now, 
before  I  am  dressed  and  at  Ilelen's  !" 

Conway  was  his  own  valet ;  and  taking  a  great  deal 


114 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


of  pains  with  his  toilet,  as  people  generally  do  on  their 
wedding  day,  it  was,  as  he  had  predicted,  after  ten  before 
the  cermony  of  dressing  was  completed,  and  he  lounged 
out  very  unnecessarily  handsome,  drawing  on  his  gloves 
as  he  went.     Mrs.  Wood  met  him  in  the  hall. 

**  My  dear  Conway,  I  thought  you  were  dead,  or  had 
been  turned  into  one  of  the  Seven  Sleepers !  Do  you 
know  it  is  fifteen  minutes  after  ten,  and  you  are  to  be 
married  at  eleven.  But  perhaps  you  have  forgotten  you 
are  to  be  married  at  all.  You  are  given  to  forget  trifles, 
you  know." 

Conway  laughed.* 

"I  came  uncommonly  near  forgetting  it,  I  allow. 
Has  Eugene  made  his  appearance  yet  ?" 

"  Eugene  !    Wliy,  has  he  returned  ?" 

"Just  what  I  intended  asking  you.  I  saw  a  light 
burning  in  his  room  last  night,  and  took  it  for  granted 
he  was  here." 

"  Perhaps  ho  is  !  Just  wait  a  moment  and  I'll 
see ! " 

Eugene's  room  was  near  Conway's.  Mrs.  Wood  rap- 
ped at  the  door,  but  there  was  no  answer.  Slie  turned 
the  handle,  but  it  was  fast. 

"  He  must  have  come.     No  one  ever  locks  his  door 


THE    TRA0ED7    BL ACKERS. 


118 


but  himself  1  I  wonder  where  ho  can  have  been  this 
longtime." 

Conway  laughed  again  as  he  ran  down  stairs. 

"Hunting  for  last  years  snow  !  I  hope  he  may  find 
it.  Good-bye,  my  dear  aunt ;  there  will  bo  a  Mrs. 
Ilazclwood  in  the  world  before  you  sec  mo  again,  and 
your  good-for-nothing  nephew  will  be  a  sober,  sensible, 
steady  married  man." 

"  You  sober,  indeed  !  "  said  Mrs.  Wood  to  liersclf,  as 
his  handsome,  laughing  face  vanished.  "Married  or 
single,  you  will  always  be  light-hearted,  hot-headed 
Conway  !  I  hope  the  boy  will  be  happy,  anyway,  for  he 
is  the  best  of  them  all  !" 

It  was  nearly  half-past  ten  when  the  bride-groom 
entered  the  house  of  his  bride.  Her  father  met  him  in 
the  hall  and  held  out  his  hands  with  a  smile. 

"  We  were  beginning  to  think  here  that  the  ever- 
gallant  Hazelwood  was  going  to  lose  his  character,  and 
become  like  the  bridegroom  in  the  song  '  a  laggard  in 
love.'  Better  late  than  never,  though.  Come  into  the 
library  and  take  a  glass  of  wine.  You  will  need  it  to 
keep  up  your  courage  in  the  trying  ordeal  before  you." 

"  An  ordeal  without  which  life  would  not  be  worth 
having,"  laughed  Conway. 


116 


THE    TRAGEDY    BL  AC  KEN'S. 


"Holon,  I  suppose,  is  invisible." 

"For  the  next  twenty  minutos,  yes.  There  is  a 
crowd  up-stairs  in  the  drawing-room,  and  she  is  in  the 
liands  of  her  bridemaids.  By  the  way,  where  is  Arthur  ? 
— very  odd  ho  is  not  liere  !" 

Conway  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Lounging  in  \\\a  atelier,  as  usual.  The  fellow  is 
the  very  incarnation  of  laziness,  like  the  rest  of  his  Bo- 
hemian tribe." 

"  Too  bad  both  lie  and  Eugene  should  bo  absent ;  it 
looks  strange  on  such  an  occasion.  Where  did  you  say 
Eugene  was  ?" 

"  I  did  not  say  he  was  anywhei-e,  my  dear  sir,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  I  don't  know  !  One  might  as 
well  try  to  account  for  the  errationess  of  a  comet,  as  for 
that  of  my  worthy  younger  brother." 

"  Eccentric  !  always  was,  always  will  be,  but  uncom- 
monly clever,  smartest  of  the  lot — begging  your  pardon, 
Conway  !  Ten  minutes  to  eleven — how  the  minutes  are 
flying !  Come  up  to  the  drawing-room  my  boy  ;  the 
bride  and  her  attendant  nymphs  will  be  there  directly." 

"  My  father  is  here,  I  suppose  ?"  Conway  asked, 
following  him  up-stairs. 

"Your  father  came  half  an —    Ah  1  what  is  that  ?" 


THE     riiAOI'JDV    n  LACK  ENS. 


117 


It  was  ii  wild,  shrill  shriek  from  the  conservatory — a 
girl's  frightened  cry.  Again  it  was  repeated,  and  both 
stood  still  in  wonder  in  the  hall.  Once  more,  wilder, 
shriller  the  shriek  was  heard,  and  then  a  figure  in  rosy 
ganzo  came  flying  along  the  hall,  rending  the  air  with 
piercing  screams.  Conway  caught  the  flying  figure  by 
the  arm  :  "  Una  !  have  you  gone  crazy  ?  What  is  tho 
matter  ?    Has  any  one  fainted  ?" 

"0  Conway!  0  Conway  I"  was  all  Una  could  cry, 
her  eyes  wild  with  horror,  her  whole  figure  quivering 
and  thrilling  like  an  aspen  leaf. 

*'  Miss  Forest !  (iood  heavens  !  what  has  happened  F" 
Mr.  Thornton  gasped.  "Where  is  Helen?  has  any- 
thing—" 

lie  stopped  ;  for  Una,  clinging  to  her  cousin,  burst 
into  a  wild  fit  of  hysterical  sobs.  The  drawing-room 
door  flew  open,  and  a  startled  crowd  poured  out ;  tho 
bridemaids,  in  curiosity  and  consternation,  came  flock- 
ing round  her ;  the  servants  from  below  were  coming 
up  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  commotion.  Every  eye  was 
fixed  on  Una  Forest,  whose  hysterical  sobs  alone  broke 
the  startling  stillness. 

Conway,  very  pale  with  some  nan;o]ess  dread,  caught 
both  her  sloudor  wristti  in  his  hands,  and  looked  steadily 


118 


THE     TRA0ED7    BLACKENS. 


into  hor  eyes.  That  concentrated  and  powerful  glance 
mesmerized  the  girl  into  calmness. 

"  Una,  speak  out  1     What  is  the  matter  ?" 

"Helen  is  not  here,"  Helens  father  said.  "Whore 
is  Helen  ?" 

"Dead  !"  Una  cried,  with  a  last  hysterical  sob. 
"  0  Mr.  Thornton,  Helen  is  dead  !" 

It  had  been  all  silent  enough  a  moment  before — to 
describe  the  slirick  and  commotion  tliat  followed  Una's 
startling  announcement,  would  be  utterly  imi)ossiblo. 

Mr.  Thornton,  speechless  and  paralyzed,  and  Con- 
way deadly  white,  were  the  calmest  of  all.  Ho  was  still 
holding  her  wrists,  unconscious  how  cruelly  hard,  and 
still  mesmerizing  her  with  his  strong  dark  eyes. 

"Dead  !  do  you  know  what  you  are  saying,  Una  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  do  !  I  do  !  0  Conway  I  she  is  in  the  con- 
servatory, dead  !  murdered  !" 

"  Murdered !"  a  wild  chorus  of  voices  repeated  in 
horror ;  and  then,  as  by  one  impulse,  a  universal  rush 
was  made  for  the  conservatory.  All  but  Conway — the 
word  "conservatory"  stunned  him,  and  ho  stood  per- 
fectly still,  grasping  Una,  and  looking  into  her  fright- 
ened blue  eyes  as  if  ho  had  forever  lost  the  power  of 
gazing  elsewhere. 


THE    TRAQEDY    BLACKENS. 


119 


It  was  impos.siblo  for  the  tho  girl's  Albino  face  to 
turn  any  whiter  than  Nature  had  made  it,  but  her  very 
lips  were  blanched,  with  fear. 

"0  Conway!"  slic  said,  in  a  terrifled  whisper, 
"  Eugene  has  been  hero  1" 

"Eugene!" 

"Ho  was  alone  with  her  in  tho  conservatory.  She 
went  in  tliore  well  and  fv;ll  of  life.  Less  than  half  an 
hour  after,  when  I  went  to  look  for  her,  I  found  her 
lying  there — dead  1" 

No  marble  statue  could  have  worn  a  face  whiter  or 
more  rigidly  set  tlum  did  the  bridegroom ;  no  hands 
frozen  in  death  could  have  been  more  icy  than  those 
grasping  her  tortured  wrists.  But  life  terrible  and  in- 
tensely burning  life,  shone  in  those  large  dark  eyes. 

•*  He  was  alone  with  Helen  in  the  conservatory,"  he 
repeated,  his  very  voice  changing  so  that  she  scarcely 
knew  it. 

"  0  Conway,  yes  !    0  Conway — " 

*'  Has  he  gone  ?" 

"  He  left  a  few  minutes  before  I  went  in  and  found 
her—" 

The  hysterical  sobs  commenced  again,  chocked  in 
their  commencement,  however,  by  an  appalling  sight. 


120 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


Five  or  six  gentlemen  were  approaching,  bearing  be- 
tween them  the  convulsed  form  of  Mr.  Thornton,  foam- 
ing and  writhing  in  a  fit  of  epilepsy — a  horrible  sight 
to  look  at.  "With  a  scream,  Una  broke  from  Conway  and 
fled,  and  he,  just  glancing  at  the  purple  and  distorted 
face,  turned  steadily  to  the  scene  of  the  tragedy. 

The  la'-ge  room  wa3  full,  but  every  one  made  way 
for  him.  Xo  cue  bnt  her  father  had  dared  to  touch 
her.  She  still  lay  a?  Una  had  found  her  ;  and  an  emi- 
nent physician,  who  chanced  to  be  among  the  guests, 
was  bending  over  her.  One  glance  at  the  face  told  the 
whole  storv — his  bride  was  no  loncror  his,  but  the  bride 
of  Deatli.  He  made  no  atterai)t  to  touch  her,  and  his 
voice,  when  he  spoke,  was  quite  calm,  only  it  did  not 
sound  like  the  voice  of  Conway  Hazelwood  ;  and  that 
terrible  light,  like  dusky-red  flame,  was  burning  omi- 
nously in  his  eyes. 

"  She  is  quite  dead  ?''  he  asked. 

"Quite,'*  said  the  medical  man,  looking  up;  "a 
terrible  crime  has  been  committed  here.  Tho  young 
lady  has  been  poisoned  I" 

"  Ah  !  poisoned." 

"  Yes,  she  h.as  evidently  swallowed  a  dose  of  prussio 
acid,  strong  euough   to  kill  a  horse  in  a  lew  minutes. 


THE     TRA0ED7    BLACKENS. 


121 


a 


!S10 

.es. 


Firienda,  a  lioriible  mnrdor  has  been  committed-  -it  is 
mo*  time  to  stand  idle — who  can  the  murderer  be  ?" 

Conway  Hazchvood  turned  out  of  the  room  with  the 
snine  steady  step  lie  luid  cntw'ed,  took  his  hat,  and  loft 
ttlke  b.ou3c.  Ten  minntes  hiter,  he  was  standing  in  his 
©wns,  and  encountering  liis  aunt  face  to  face  in  the 
fewer  hall. 

'•^Gi'acious  nie,  Conway  !  what  brings  you  here?  And 
■wEuit  on  earth  i.s  tlie  matter — yon  look  like  a  ghost !" 
He  stopped  in  his  way  up-stairs,  and  looked  at  her. 
**Havc  you  seen  Eugene  ?    lias  he  been  here  ?'' 
"  Ye>-',  and   he  is  here  yet.     He  is   up  in  his  room 
pwrking   some   things  for  anotlier  journey,  I  suppose. 
Ej»--  inytliing  hap — " 

Tnrough  the  hall-window  Conway  saw  two  police- 
Msm  pa.ssing.  Another  instant,  and  lie  had  opened  the 
door^  and  hailed  then.  One  of  them  knew  him,  and 
towfiod  his  hat. 

"•Anyching  wrong.  Mr.  Hazelwood,  that  you  want 
MS,     What  can  we  do  for  you,  sir  ?" 

"I  want  you  to  make  an  arrest;  a  great  crime  has 
Hwett  committed  to-day,  and  the  perpetrator  is  here  I 
Amat  tell  one  of  the  servants  to  call  a  cab.  I  shall  want 
itt  diirectly.     This  way,  gentlemen." 


123 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


In  a  perfect  tranco  of  amazement  and  bewilderment, 
!Mrs.  Wood  stood  looking  after  her  nephew  and  the  two 
officials  going  np-stairs,  quite  incapable  of  giving  the 
order  he  had  left.  A  little  negro  boy,  Avho  did  the 
errands  of  the  house,  chanced  to  be  within  hear- 
ing distance,  however,  and  ran  off  for  the  cab  at 
once. 

"  What's  the  crime  that's  been  committed  ?"  one  of 
the  policemen  asked,  on  their  Avay  up-stairs. 

"  Murder  !"  was  the  stern  response. 

"  Murder  ?"  repeated  the  policeman,  aghast.  "And 
do  you  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Ilazelwood,  the  murderer's 
here  ?" 

"I  do  !  lie  is  in  this  room  I"  said  Conway,  knock- 
ing loudly  at  Eugene's  door. 

It  was  opened  at  once,  and  by  Eugene  himself.  He 
had  been,  as  ^Irs.  Wood  had  said  packing  up  ;  for  a 
trunk,  half-filled,  was  open,  and  the  floor  was  strewn 
with  clothes,  dressing-cases,  and  articles  of  all  kinds. 
lie  looked  in  unfeigned  astonishment  from  his  brother 
to  the  policeman. 

"  CouAvay  !  you  hero  !    What  does  this  mean  ?" 

"It  means!"  Conway  cried,  grasping  him  by  the 
shoulder,  "  that  you  are  a  prisoner.     You   thought  to 


THE    TRAOEDT    BLACKENS. 


123 


M 


escape,  did  you  ?    Well  you  have  failed.     Take  him, 
men — a  cab  is  waiting  below  !" 

Eugene,  strong  as  a  young  Hercules,  shook  him  in- 
dignantly off. 

"Are  you  mad,  sir?  Your  prisoner  I  On  what 
charge  ?" 

"  That  of  murder  !  You  have  kept  your  threat 
well.  Helen  Thornton  is  dead ;  but,  by  Heaven,  you 
shall  hang  for  it  as  high  as  Haman,  were  you  ten  broth- 
ers of  mine  !" 

Eugene  stood  looking  at  him,  utter  and  unfeigned 
amazement  and  consternation  written  in  every  feature 
of  his  face. 

"Helen  Thornton  dead!  Have  you,  indeed,  gone 
mad,  or  have  I  ?  Wliy,  it  is  not  over  half  an  hour  since 
I  left  her,  alive  and  well  1" 

"  Away  with  him,  men,  to  the  cab.  Come,  I  will 
help  you  if  he  resists." 

His  eyes  were,  indeed,  those  of  a  madman.  Eugene 
looked  at  him  like  one  who  doubts  the  evidence  of  his 
senses. 

"  Conway,  have  you  really  gone  mad  ?  Where  are 
you  taking  me  to  ?" 

"  To  the  scene  of  your  guilt — to  Helen  Thornton's 


124 


THE    TRAGEDY    BLACKENS. 


home.  Take  him,  I  tell  you,  men,  whether  he  resists 
01-  not !" 

Eugene  turned  calmly  to  the  policeman. 

**  All  this  is  Greek  to  me,  but  I  will  go,  if  it  be  only 
to  find  out  what  all  this  mystery  means.  Go  on  ;  I  will 
follow." 

The  cab  was  at  the  door  ;  the  four  entered  and  in 
silence  were  driven  to  the  house — an  hour  ago  of  merri- 
ment, now  of  death.  Conway  strode  on  to  the  dining- 
room  ;  Eugene  followed,  in  charge  of  the  two  police- 
men. The  spacious  room  was  a  scene  of  the  utmost 
disorder,  excitement  and  confusion — everybody  had 
flocked  back  there.  The  physician  who  had  informed 
ConAvay  the  bride  had  been  poisoned  was  talking  to  a 
knot  of  friends. 

"  She  has  been  poisoned — murdered,  T  repeat  !  Our 
first  object  now  must  be  to  discover  the  murderer  !" 

"  He  is  here  !"  cried  Conway,  in  a  voice  that  rang 
like  a  trumpet  through  the  room,  as  he  stepped  for- 
ward, witli  his  hand  on  Eugene's  shoulder.  "I  accuse 
my  younger  brother,  Eugene  Hiizelwood,  of  the  murder 
of  Uelen  Thornton  I" 


\ 


THE    LAST    DARK    SCENE. 


198 


[ 


\ 


'^ 


CIIAPTEPt  VIII. 


THE  LAST  DAKK  SCE>fE. 


PRISON-CELL,  dark  and  narrow,  the  slant- 
ing rays  of  tie  ruddy  sunset,  tinging  with 
gold  the  iron  bars  of  the  grated  window,  and 
falling  in  bright  patches  on  the  cold  stone  floor;  its 
very  brightness  and  beauty  seemed  crudest  mockery  in 
such  a  i^lace,  as  it  lay  in  shining  patches  on  the  rude 
trundle-bed,  on  tlie  bare  deal  table  and  the  solitary  chair 
that  completed  the  dreary  cell's  appointments  :  a  cruel 
mockery  to  whatever  poor  Avretch  night  be  confined 
there,  sj)eaking,  as  it  did,  so  forcibly  of  the  bright  free 
world  outside. 

A  man — a  young  man — no  common  felon,  cither, 
for  he  bore  the  unmistakable  impress  of  a  gentleman — 
walked  up  and  down  the  cell's  narrow  limits,  his  hands 
crossed  behind  liim,  his  head  sunk  on  his  breast,  his 
black  brows  contracted  in  a  desperate  scowl.  The  pri- 
soner was  Eugene  Ilazelwood  ;  and  as  you  have  seen 
caged  tigers  tread  ceaselessly  and  savagely  up  and  down 
their  barred  cages,  he,  with  much  the  air  of  a  sullen, 
ferocious,   human  tiger,   strode  his.     It  has  all  passed 


126 


THE    LAST    DARE    SCENE. 


like  a  horrible  nightmare — the  first  shock  of  amazement, 
horror,  incredulity,  the  post-mortem  examination,  the 
coroner's  inquest,  the  trial,  the  frightful  array  of  circum- 
stantial evidence,  that  arose  as  if  by  magic,  and  con- 
founded even  the  most  incredulous.  Throughout  it  all 
the  elder  brother  had  labored  with  appalling  zeal  to  bring 
home  the  crime  of  murder  to  the  younger.  Conway 
Hazclwood  was  as  firmly  convinced  of  Eugene's  guilt  as 
he  was  of  his  own  existence,  and  that  conviction  seiTed 
in  one  hour  to  completely  change  his  whole  nature. 
The  gay,  careless,  graceless  Conway,  the  pet  and  darling 
of  the  ladies,  was  gone  forever  ;  and  in  his  stead  was  a 
relentless,  remorseless,  unfeeling  avenger  whose  stern 
motto  was,  "  Justice  tliough  the  heavens  fall  I" 

No  bloodliound  could  have  hunted  down  his  prey 
more  cruelly  and  unflinchingly  ;  through  him  arose  the 
frightful  chain  of  evidence,  his  mad  love  for  Helen,  his 
madder  jealousy  and  threats,  his  absence,  his  return  the 
night  before,  the  mysterious  note,  evidently  in  a  feigned 
hand,  that  had  led  the  bride  to  the  conservatory,  his 
short  visit,  and  tlie  awful  denouement  that  followed  his 
departure ;  his  nearest  relatives  had  been  the  principal 
witnesses  against  him — his  aunt,  his  cousin  Una,  his 
brother  Arthur — all  horified  and  unwilling,  had  to  speak 


I 


J 


THE    LAST    DARK    SCENE. 


127 


I. 


tlio  words  tliat  condemned  and  branded  liim  as  the 
murderer  ;  the  servant  who  admitted  him ;  even  his 
medical  knowledge  of  poisons — were  conclusive  proofs 
against  him  ;  and  if  a  last  link  were  wanting,  Conway 
supplied  it,  by  relating  the  snare  that  had  been  laid  to 
foist  the  guilt  on  nira.  lie  told  the  tale  of  the  nocturnal 
encounter  on  Broadway  ;  he  was  positive  now  the  man 
witli  the  blackened  face  must  have  been  Eugene.  So 
the  examination  went  on  ;  and  the  first  amazement  and 
incredulity  gave  place  to  horrible  convictions,  and 
Eugene  Hazel  wood  Avas  held  to  stand  his  trial  for  the 
willful  murder  of  Helen  Thornton.  The  excitement  was 
unprecedented  :  newspapers  were  full  of  surmises  and 
particulars;  society  held  up  its  hands  in  horror  ;  some- 
body dramatized  the  story,  and  the  lucky  manager  who 
got  the  play  had  his  house  crowded  every  night  for  a 
month.  Sensation-novelists  wrought  it  up  into  thrilling 
tales,  with  embellishments  and  decorations  of  their  own, 
and  the  public  devoured  the  bloodthirsty  productions 
wholesale.  Murder  became  all  the  fashion,  and  poison- 
ing the  favorite  thome  of  gossip  in  every  circle.  People 
would  listen  to  no  opera  but  Lucrctia  Borgia,  and  all 
the  city  was  on  tiptoe,  impatient,  for  the  coming  trial. 
Frightful  woodcuts,   said  to  be  exact  portraits  of  the 


128 


THE    LAST    DARK    SOBNE. 


murderer,  his  victim,  and  bereaved  brother,  decorated 
every  print-shop,  and  if  notoriety  could  impart  comfort, 
Eugene  Ilazclwood  was  an  enviable  man. 

Throughout  it  all,  he  had  been  like  a  man  stunned — 
like  one  who  cannot  realize  Avhat  is  passing  around  him. 
He  had  pleaded  Not  Guilty — of  course,  the  most  guilty, 
as  the  coroner  remarked,  do  that — but  it  had  been  in  a 
bewildered  sort  of  way,  and  tliat  bewilderment  had 
lasted  all  through  his  trial.  Some  pfio])le  might  think 
it  proceeded  from  the  stunning  shock  of  amazement  at 
finding  himself  thus  suddenly  convicted  of  a  crime  he 
had  never  dreamed  of,  but  very  few  were  so  charitable 
as  to  tJiink  that.  The  proof  was  very  clear ;  the  evi- 
dence wanted  not  a  link  ;  his  own  brother  was  his 
accuser;  his  nearest  relatives  reluctant,  naturally,  to 
give  evidence  against  him,  yet  were  obliged  to  do  it,  and 
believed  him  guilty. 

Weeks  had  passed  since  then,  and  with  those  passing 
weeks  the  prisoner's  mood  had  changed,  lie  saw  him- 
self accused,  condemned,  deserted  ;  Fate,  stronger  than 
he,  was  against  him  ;  and  he  became  moody,  sullen,  and 
savage,  refusing  to  answer  questions — a  dark  and  despe- 
rate man  of  Avhom  the  very  jailers  were  afraid.  They 
had  been  dreary  weeks  those,  in  some  places  ;  those  were 


J 


i-  . 


f 


TEE    LAST    DARK    SCENE. 


129 


in  the  liomo  of  Mr.  Tliornton,  desolate  and  bereaved, 
with  the  broken-hearted  fatlier  lying  ill  unto  death,  in 
the  homo  of  the  Ilazelwoods,  silent  and  darkened,  where 
old  Mr.  Ilazelwood,  shut  up  in  his  room,  never  saw  any 
one,  and  battled  with  his  grief  and  shame  in  proud  soli- 
tude, where  Una  Avent  through  the  dusky  room  like  a 
little  white  ghost ;  and  Mrs.  "Wood  declined  taking  her 
meals  at  proper  hours,  and  cried  till  her  eyes  were  as 
red  as  a  ferret's,  and  her  eyes  and  her  lieart  ached  alike  j 
Arthur  moped  down  in  his  gloomy  studio  and  took  to 
smoking  harder  than  ever,  some  said  to  drinking  also ; 
and  Conway  took  lodgings  within  view  of  his  brother's 
prison,  and  changed  into  a  relentless,  gloomy,  and  stern 
man,  saw  no  one,  and  was  almost  as  much  a  prisoner, 
with  his  own  will  for  his  jailer,  as  his  unliappy  brother. 
Dreary  weeks  to  all,  but  dreariest  in  the  lonesome  prison- 
cell,  where  the  young  physician  paced  up  and  down,  up 
and  down,  brooding  over  his  own  dark  thoughts,  night 
and  day,  and  fading  into  the  very  shadow  of  himself. 
White  and  wan  was  the  face  on  which  the  sun's  rays  fell 
this  evening — the  eve  of  his  trial — for  to  morrow  he  was 
to  face  the  crowded  court-house,  and  be  tried  for  his  life. 
Shuffling  footsteps  came  along  tlie  stone  corridor 
without,  a  key  turned  gratingly  in  the  lock  of  his 


130 


THE    LAST    DARK    SCENE. 


door,  it  swung  back,  somo  one  entered,  and  it  was 
slammed  to  again.  Tlio  prisoner  turned  round,  and 
saw  the  white  hair  and  bowed  bead  of  his  kind  old 
father.  It  vais  not  that  father's  first  visit,  but  Eugono 
gave  no  token  of  pleasure  or  welcome  as  ho  pointed  to 
the  solitary  chair,  and  resumed  his  march  up  and 
down. 

Mr.  Hazelwood  sank  into  the  seat  with  a  sort  of  groan. 

**  My  poor  boy  !  To-morrow  is  the  terrible  day  I 
have  looked  forward  to  in  horror  so  long." 

Eugene  looked  at  him,  moodily. 

**If  I  felt  like  thanking  Heaven  for  anything,  I 
should  be  thankful  that  it  is  so  near.  Lot  them  do 
their  worst,  the  whole  of  them  ;  that  worst  can  bo  but 
hanging,  and  hanging  is  a  thousand  times  preferable  to 
the  horrible  existence  I  have  been  dragging  out  here." 

*'  0  my  boy  !  my  boy  !  I  am  an  old  man,  and  why 
did  I  not  die  before  I  saw  this  day  ?" 

Ho  dropped  his  white  head  on  the  table,  with  another 
groan,  but  Eugene  looked  on  with  a  stony  eye. 

''I  suppose  you  are  all  preparing  your  evidence 
against  mo  for  to-morrow.  It  is  a  consoling  thought, 
than  when  I  am  condemned  I  shall  have  no  one  to  thank 
for  it  but  my  neares-t  relatives  1" 


.) 


thfj  last  dark  saijyM. 


181 


**  Iloiivcii  liclp  us  !  wliat  can  wo  do  ?  0  Eugene  !  is 
tlicro  no  way  of  saving  you  ?  Is  there  noiliing  that  will 
tell  in  your  favor  ?" 

**  Nothing  !  It  has  been  clearly  proven  that  I  was 
the  last  one  who  saw  Ilelcn  Thornton  alive  ;  of  course, 
then,  I  must  be  the  assassin." 

"IIow  can  you  speak  in  that  mocking  tone,  Eu- 
gene ?  Oh,  why  did  you  insist  on  seeing  her  that  fatal 
morning  ?" 

"I  have  already  informed  you  and  my  all-wiso 
judges  :  to  tell  her  a  secret  connected  with  her  adored 
bridegroom.  To  tell  her  I  could  prove  ho  had  one  wife 
already  in  the  land  of  tlie  living,  and  two  interest- 
ing babes.  That  would  have  stopped  the  ceremony, 
I  think,  if  the  laws  of  this  narrow-minded  country 
will  not  recognize  a  man's  right  to  two  wives  at  the 
same  time.  Of  course,  my  story  was  looked  upon  as  a 
fabrication  ;  and,  of  course,  it  will  bo.  Let  them  do 
their  worst,  curse  them  !"  ho  cried,  savagely,  clenching 
his  fist,  "  I  defy  them  all  !" 

It  was  a  dismal  interview,  but  a  short  one  ;  and  Mr. 
Ilazclwood  returned  to  his  homo  with  a  heart  heavier, 
if  possible,  than  when  he  had  left  it.  He  could  not 
believe  JJugcijc  guilty,  strong  as  the  proofs  were  against 


133 


THE    LAST    DAllK    SCENE. 


him;  but  ho  Imil  little  hope  thiit  citlier  jiulgo,  jury,  or 
public  would  joiu  in  hia  opiniou.  It  was  jv  mispnibk', 
a  sleepless  night  to  ]iim,to  tlK'iu  all  ;  but  the  sun  rose  nt 
last  ou  the  clay  he  dreaded  to  .see.  Tiie  most  horrible 
thing  about  the  whole  horrible  ad'air  was  that,  as  Eugene 
had  said,  his  nearest  relatives  were  his  deadliest  accusers. 
All-abhorrent  as  tbe  task  was,  yet  go  they  must,  speak 
they  were  obliged  to.  And  closely  vailed,  and  wearing 
deepest  mourning,  Mrs.  Wood  and  Una  set  out  for  the 
crowded  court-house. 

Long  before  its  doors  were  thrown  open,  street  and 
sidewalk  were  filled  with  a  sea  of  peojde,  and  when  at 
last  way  was  made  for  them,  they  poured  iuto  the  build- 
ing and  filled  it  to  MtlTocation.  Busy  reporters  leaned 
over  the  desks,  styiishly-drcssed  ladies  whispered  to- 
gether and  waited  iin])aticnt1y  for  the  prisoner  to  be 
brought  in,  artists  came  ready  to  take  correct  pencil- 
sketches  of  the  faces  of  all  the  principal  personages  in  tho 
tragedy,  and  all,  from  tho  highest  to  the  lowest,  had  but 
one  opinion  of  the  issue — that  Eugene  Hazel  wood  was 
guilty,  and  would  meet  a  fate  ho  richly  deserved. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  prisoner  was  led  in,  pale,  sullen, 
defiant;  the  trial  began,  and  pens  and  pencils  went  to 
work.     The  case  was  ably  opened  by  the  counsel  for  the 


thFj   last  dark  scene. 


188 


prosecution,  tho  witnesses  against  him  were  plentiful  ; 
find  neither  the  ]»risoner  nor  his  lawyer  could  say  niucii 
that  Weighed  against  tlic  crushing  amount  of  circum- 
Btantial  evidence.  With  a  face  that  might  have  been 
cut  out  of  white  stone,  relentless  iis  death,  pitiless  as 
doom,  Conway  was  there  as  his  chief  accuser ;  and  when 
the  case  Wils  adjourned  for  that  day,  tho  mob  poured  out, 
more  and  more  assured  that  their  predictions  as  to  tho 
result  were  correct. 

Tho  trial  lasted  three  days,  and  with  every  passing 
hour  the  prisoner's  case  grew  darker  and  darker.  It 
ended  at  last,  as  all  had  said — tho  jury  brought  in  a 
verdict  of  guilty,  but  with  a  recommendation  to  mercy 
on  account  of  his  youth  and  respectability.  Tho  closing 
speech  of  tho  judgo  was  a  toucliing  one  ;  the  stylishly- 
dressed  ladies  wept  copiously  as  they  listened,  and  felt 
very  sorry  for  the  prisoner,  with  the  stern,  moody  face, 
v,'hen  they  heard  his  sentence — imprisonment  for  life, 
Avith  hard  labor.  It  miglit  have  been  deatli ;  but  tho 
plea  for  mercy  had  been  accepted,  and  it  was  only  im- 
prisonment for  life.  The  prisoner  smiled  as  ho  heard  it 
such  a  strange  smile,  and  turned  liis  eycsintcjitly  on  his 
elder  brother's  cold  white  face,  but  he  bowed  to  tho 
kind  old  judge,  and  was  led  from  tho  court  without  a 


134 


THE    LAST    BARK    SCENE. 


word.  Everybody  went  home  to  talk  about  it.  The 
Hazclwoods,  never  speaking  at  all,  but  shrinking  from 
each  other,  were  driven  to  their.>.  Conway  went  to  his 
desolate  lodgings  ;  but  now  that  his  revenge  was  satia- 
ted a  strange  restlessness  took  possession  of  him — a  wish 
to  see  and  speak  to  Eugene  once  more  before  he  left  New 
York,  as  on  the  morrow  he  intended  doing,  forever.  He 
battled  with  the  desire  for  awhile,  but  it  was  stronger 
than  he  ;  and  as  dusk  wivs  falling  over  the  city,  he  i)ut 
on  his  hat  and  wandered  slowly  to  the  prison.  Tlicro 
was  a  crowd  collected  round  the  principal  entrance, 
talking  in  hushed  tones,  and  with  solemn  faces. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  Conway  asked  of  one  of 
the  men  near  him. 

The  man  looked  at  him  queerly,  but  without  recog- 
nizing him. 

"A  very  shocking  thing,  sir  !  The  young  man,  Ha- 
zelwood,  whose  trial  for  murder  ended  to-day,  has  just 
been  found  dead  in  his  cell.  He  hung  himself  sir,  with  his 
pocket-handkerchief  to  one  of  the  bars  of  his  window. 
It  has  been  a  horrid  affair  all  through,  but  the  end  is 
the  most  horrid  of  all." 


A    REVELATION 


18S 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A   KEVELATION". 


MON"G  the  crowd  collected  round  the  prison- 
gate  there  stood  a  woman  dressed  in  shabby- 
genteel  mourning.  Tall  and  slight,  and  youth- 
ful of  form,  as  far  as  might  be  judged  through  the 
lajge  black  shall  she  wore.  A  thick  black  crape  vail  hid 
her  face,  and  was  gathered  close  in  one  small  gloved 
hand,  as  if  she  feared  the  wind  might  flutter  it  even  for 
an  instant  aside. 

Conway  Ilazelwood,  moody  and  self-abstracted,  had 
not  seen  her,  but  she  had  followed  him  from  the  house, 
walked  after  him  stealthily  to  the  prison,  and  stopping 
and  mingling  with  the  crowd  Avhen  he  stopped,  had 
heard  his  inquiry  and  its  answer.  She  could  see  his  face, 
though  ho  could  not  discern  hers,  and  she  saw  its  stony 
and  rigid  whiteness  turn  to  the  livid  and  ghastly  hue  of 
death.  There  was  a  lam[)-post  near,  and  he  grasped  it, 
as  if  the  earth  was  reeling  under  his  feet. 

"  Arc  you  sure  ?"  he  asked  ;  and  the  man  stared  at 
him  as  he  heard  his  hoarse  voice,  and  saw  the  frightful 
change  in  his  face. 


136 


A    REVELATION. 


"  The  jailer's  a  cousin  of  mine,  and  it  was  him  that 
found  liini  as  dead  as  a  herring,  not  fifteen  minutes  ago. 
Was  he  any  relation  of  yours,  sir  ?" 

The  young  man  did  not  answci'.  IIo  turned  ^v'^)-. 
long  strides  and  sought  the  main  entrance  to  the  prison, 
sure  of  admission  and  hent  on  learning  the  certainty  of 
the  ghastly  news  he  had  just  heard. 

The  woman  in  mourning  watched  him  out  of  sight, 
and  then  flitted  away  in  the  gathering  gloom  of  the 
evening — a  darker  shadow  among  the  shadows.  She 
entered  a  stationev's  shop  and  purchased  pen,  ink,  and 
paper. 

"I  have  a  letter  to  write  before  I  go  home,"  she  said 
to  the  clerk,  in  a  soft,  sweet  voice,  and  the  tone  of  a 
lady,  "will  yon  be  kind  enough  tolut  me  write  it  here?" 

"Certainly,  madam,"  the  young  man  said,  looking 
admiringly  at  the  beautiful  Avhito  hand  on  the  counter, 
and  from  it  curiously  to  the  hidden  face.  "Step  this 
way,  if  you  please." 

There  was  a  desk  in  a  distant  corner,  under  the  jets 
of  gas.  The  lady  seated  herself  at  it  and  began  to 
write,  bn*^,  to  the  deep  disappointment  of  the  polito 
shopkeeper,  without  ever  raising  the  odious  ^oreen. 

"  Oh,  hang   the  vail  I"  cried  the  clerk,   inwardly. 


I 

I 


A    REVELATION. 


137 


"  Why  don't  she  put  tlic  confounded  tiling  up  ?  It's  all 
very  well  fur  old  and  ugly,  iiud  pockniiirkod  females  to 
wear  'em,  but  no  woman  with  such  a  hand  as  she's  got 
can  bo  anything  clso  tlian  stunning.  Last  Mercury, 
ma'am — five  cents,  if  you  please." 

This  winding  up  of  his  soliloquy  was  addressed  to  a 
cnstomer  ;  and  as  ho  turned  round  after  serving  her,  he 
saw  the  vailed  lady  descend  from  the  desk  with  a  note, 
folded  and  sealed  in  her  hand. 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  said  tho  sweet 
voice;  "good  evening." 

Tho  gas  Avas  lit  in  the  streets  as  tho  woman  in  black 
rapidly  retraced  her  steps.  She  stopped  a  moment  to 
look  at  the  gloomy  prison  as  she  went  by.  There  was  a 
throng  about  tlio  gate  still,  discussing  the  frightful  end 
of  tho  tragedy  ;  but  she  spoke  to  no  one,  and  hurried  ou 
again,  till  she  came  to  the  lodgings  of  Conway  Hazel- 
wood.  Her  ring  at  the  doorbell  was  answered  by  a  tidy 
maid-servant. 

"  Mr.  Ilazelwood  boards  here  1"  she  askod. 

"Ycs'm." 

"  Is  he  at  home  ?" 

"  No'm." 

**  Will  you  give  him  this  letter  as  soon  as  he  comes  ?" 


138 


A    REVELATION. 


"  Yes'm  ;  but  hadn't  you  better  step  in  and  wait. 
He  n  directly,  and  you  mayn't  see  him  again,  be- 

cause i.o  is  going  to  England  in  the  steamer  to-mor- 
row." 

"  No,"  replied  the  soft  voice  behind  the  vail ;  "  I  do 
not  wish  to  see  him.  Give  him  the  letter  as  soon  as  he 
arrives.     Good-night." 

She  was  gone  as  she  spoke — not  a  second  too  soon, 
if,  as  she  said,  she  did  not  wish  to  meet  Mr.  Hazelwood; 
for  scarcely  had  she  turned  the  next  corner,  Avhen  his 
tall  form  and  pale  face  confronted  the  girl  like  a 
ghost ! 

**  A  letter  for  you,  sir,"  she  said,  presenting  the 
document :  "a  lady  in  black,  which  she  has  just  gone, 
this  minute,  left  it,  and  said  it  was  to  bo  given  as  soon 
as  you  come  in.  Will  you  come  down  to  tea,  sii,  or  Avill 
I  fetch  it  up  ?" 

"  I  do  not  wish  any,"  he  said,  taking  the  letter, 
and  passing  up-stairs  to  his  room  without  looking 
at  it. 

A  lighted  lamp  stood  on  a  littered  table  ;  but  the 
whole  room  was  in  a  litter,  for  that  matter,  with  evi- 
dent preparations  for  a  journey.  Opened  trunks,  half- 
packed  valises,  clothes,  books,  and  all  sorts  of  miscel- 


A    REVELATION. 


139 


lany  strown  over  the  carpet  in  a  heap.  Indifferently 
enough  lie  glanced  at  the  superscription  of  the  letter  as 
he  paused  before  the  lamp,  but  in  that  one  glance  all 
indifference  vanished.  It  was  dainty  enough  chirogra- 
phy,  delicate  but  decided — writing  that  had  character 
in  it — but  nothing,  one  would  think,  to  make  him  start, 
as  if  a  ball  had  struck  him.  In  an  instant  he  had  torn 
it  open,  and  was  literally  devouring  its  contents.  His 
face  altered  so  as  he  read  that  you  would  scarcely  have 
known  it ;  it  had  been  harder  than  marble,  as  cold,  as 
rigid,  as  expressionless  ever  since  that  fatal  morning  on 
which  he  had  found  his  bride  dead,  and  his  brother 
guilty  of  that  death.  Through  the  trial,  the  sentence,  it 
had  retained  its  terrible  calm  ;  even  the  change  that 
had  come  over  when  he  heard  of  that  brother's  horrible 
end,  and  later,  when  he  had  looked  on  the  purple  and 
distorted  face  of  the  suicide  in  his  prison  cell,  was 
nothing  to  the  ghastly  change  that  came  now.  It 
dropped  from  his  hand  as  ho  finished  ;  and  convulsed 
like  one  in  an  epileptic  fit,  he  sank  into  the  nearest 
chair,  great  beads  of  dark,  cold  sweat  standing  on  his 
brow.  It  did  not  last  long  ;  these  moments  of  mortal 
mercifully  never  do.  A  decanter  of  brandy  stood 
on  the  table ;  he  poured  out  a  largo  glassful  of  the  raw. 


140 


A  revelation: 


strong  liquor,  and  drained  it,  as  if  it  had  been  water. 
The  crumpled  letter  lay  at  his  feet ;  he  picked  it  np, 
and,  with  the  same  gh;»stly  face,  read  it  over  again.  It 
was  brief,  but  horrible  enough  to  produce  even  a  more 
awful  result  than  it  had  done,  and  ran  thus  : 


"  ]\Iy  Dear  Husband  : — As  I  havo  a  strong  inward 
conviction  I  am  the  only  woman  alive  who  now,  or  at 
any  future  time,  will  ever  have  any  right  to  call  you  by 
that  endearing  name,  I  so  address  you,  notwithstanding 
your  conduct  of  late  has  been  rather  unhusbaudliivc — 
even  unkind.  I  do  not  mean  to  reproach  you,  my  dear 
Conway,  but  reflect  on  the  feelings  of  a  tender  mother, 
whose  offspring  are  torn  from  her  maternal  bosom,  as 
mine  have  Ijcen,  in  the  dead  of  night,  by  a  nuin  in  a 
cloak,  named  Captain  Forrest,  who  stole  in,  like  any 
low-bred  burghir,  through  the  window  of  my  miserable 
house,  and  carried  them  off.  I  understand  that  twin-in- 
fants found  their  Avay  to  your  father's  aristocratic  city 
abode  shortly  after,  wiiich  satisfies  me  that  Captain 
Forrest  meant  well  bv  the  children,  whatever  he  mijjht 
do  by  the  bereaved  mother.  Then,  my  dear  Conway  was 
it  not  still  more  unkind  of  you  to  desert  mo  to  starva- 
tion in  the  city-streets.  I  will  do  you  the  justice  that 
you  left  me  free  mo  to  choose — and  resolve  to  take  iinto 
yourself  a  younger  and  richer,  I  was  about  to  say  fairer 
bride — but  that  would  not  be  true — and  'truth  ever 
lovely,'  etc.,  has  been  my  motto  through  life.  Even 
my  saintly  cnduriince  was  not  jiroof  ngaiust  this  'last 
unkindest  cut  of  all.'    I  resolved,  at  all  hazards,  to  savo 


A    REVELATION. 


Ul 


you  from  the  sliockiug  sin  of  bigamy,  and  forsaking  my 
beloved  motbor  in  bor  old  age,  came  to  New  York,  and 
prevented  it  !  How  ?  you  ask.  No  matter,  your  wifo 
is  a  clever  woman,  as  you  long  ago  learned,  my  Conway, 
as  sbe  liopos  to  give  you  still  more  convincing  proofs 
yet  before  sbe  quits  tbis  dying  world.     Learn,  tbongb, 

0  wise  young  Judge,  0  second  Cain !  tbat  Engcno 
Hazel  wood  was  innocent  of  tbe  crime  for  wbicb  be  was 
tried  and  condemned.  It  was  I  wbo  followed  yoii  tbat 
memorable  nigbt  down  Broadway  ;  it  was  I  wbo  admin- 
istered tbe  poisoned  draugbt  to  tbe  pretty  bride;  it  was 

1  wbo  laid  a  snare  into  wbicb,  bad  you  fallen,  you  migbt 
have  stood  in  tbe  criminal  dock  in  your  brother's  place, 
It  was  I  wbo  did  it  all,  and  I  glory  in  wbat  I  bave  done. 
More  Conway  Hazclwood,  I  will  bunt  you  down  to 
your  dying  day.  I  will  be  your  evil  genius  tbrougb 
life  ;  and  if  tbe  tales  of  preachers  be  true,  at  the  judg- 
ment-seat, on  tbe  last  great  day,  I  will  be  your  deadliest 
accuser  for  the  wrong  you  have  done  me.  Your  brother 
is  dead  by  his  own  hand,  but  his  blood  cries  aloud  for 
vengeance  on  you.  You  depart  to-morrow  for  foreign 
lauds.  Heaven  speed  you  on  your  journey  !  Perhaps, 
after  reading  tbis,  you  may  take  it  into  your  head  to 
look  for  me.  Well,  my  dear  Conway,  look  for  last 
winter's  snow,  for  last  summer's  partridges,  and  when 
you  have  found  them,  then  you  may  stand  a  chance  of 
discovering  your  affectionate  wife, 

•'KosE  Hazelwood." 


It  dropped  from  his  paralyzed  hand  the  second  time, 
this  terrible  letter ;  and  ho  sat  staring  straight  before 


142 


A    REVELATION. 


him,  seeing  nothing,  but  with  every  word  ho  had  read 
burning  into  liis  brain  like  fire.  Ho  never  for  a  moment 
doubted  its  truth — ho  knew  the  writer  of  that  letter 
too  well — and  his  dead  brother's  blood  was  on  his  head. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  How  long  he  had 
sat,  his  eyes  fixed  in  that  unearthly  glare,  he  could  not 
tell — ages,  it  seemed  to  him  ;  but  at  the  knock,  loudly 
I'epeated,  he  started  up  to  a  vivid  consciousness  of  the 
outer  world,  and  opened  liis  door.  It  was  his  landlady, 
and  the  good  woman  recoiled,  with  a  scream,  at  sight  of 
him. 

"Good  gracious,  me,  Mr.  Hazclwood,  whatever's  the 
matter  with  yoii !  You  look  us  if  you'd  been  dead  and 
dug  up  again  !" 

He  did  not  speak  ;  he  only  stood  looking  down  at 
her,  waiting  for  what  she  had  to  say. 

''It's  a  message,  sir,  from  your  father;  a  servant 
brought  it,  and  has  gone  away  again.  He  wants  to  see 
you  before  you  leave ;  and  if  you  like,  sir,  I'll  pack 
up  these  here  things  against  you  come  back — shall  I  ?" 

"  Yes— what  is  the  hour  ?  I  have  lot  my  watch  run 
down," 

"Just  gone  ten,  sir,  by  the  city  hall.  Will  you  be 
be  back  to-night  ?" 


A    REVELATION. 


143 


at 


"Yes." 

His  landlady  looked  at  him  curiously,  his  face  and 
voice  were  so  different  from  the  face  and  voice  of  lier 
lodger.  The  letter  lay  on  tlic  ground  ;  ho  picked  it  up, 
folded  it,  put  it  in  his  pocket,  put  on  his  hat,  and  went 
out. 

"  Won't  you  take  your  overcoat,  Mr.  Hazelwood  ?" 
his  landlady  cried  after  him  ;  but  ho  never  heard 
her  question,  and  was  out  in  the  dark,  chill  night, 
walking,  seeing,  feeling  like  a  man  in  a  dreadful  dream. 

**Ido  believe  his  trouble,  and  the  disgrace  that  has 
fallen  on  his  family,  have  turned  his  brain,  poor  young 
gentleman  !"  the  good  woman  thought,  **and  no  wonder, 
I'm  sure  !  There's  everything  higgledy-piggledy  over 
the  floor,  it  will  take  me  a  good  two  hours  to  fix  them  ; 
but  no  odds,  he  pays  like  a  prince." 

The  shutters  were  closed,  the  blinds  lowered,  and 
there  was  crape  on  the  door  of  the  Hazelwood  mansion. 
The  stillness  of  death  reigned  within,  and  the  servant 
who  opened  the  door  and  led  him  up  to  his  father's 
room  stepped  on  tiptoe,  and  spoke  below  his  breath. 

*'He  has  never  lifted  his  head,  or  left  his  bedroom, 
or  spoke  a  word  since  ho  heard  this  evening  about  Mr. 
Eugene,"  the  man  whispered,  "  except  to  tell  him  to 


144 


A    REVELATION. 


send  for  you.  I'll  go  in  ahead,  sir,  and  let  him  know 
you've  come." 

Conway  stood  in  the  hall  without,  but  the  man  was 
back  directly. 

"You're  to  go  in,  sir,  he  says,  he  ia  all  alone." 

The  young  man  entered  his  father's  chamber.  Dimly 
lighted  by  a  shaded  lamp  and  a  dying  coal  fire,  that 
stricken  father  sat  in  a  large  easy-chair,  his  dressing- 
gown  hanging  loosely  about  him,  his  liands  lying  listless 
on  his  knees,  his  eyes  fixed  in  a  dull,  dreamy  stare  on 
the  red  embers. 

A  few  weeks  ago  he  had  been  a  strong,  hale,  up- 
right old  man,  ''frosty  but  kindly,"  now  he  sat  bowed 
to  the  dust  with  sorrow  and  shame,  looking  twenty 
years  older,  at  the  least.  He  looked  up  piteously  at  his 
elder  son  now. 

"  0  CouAvay,"  he  cried,  "  is  it  true  ?" 

*'  It  is  quite  true  !" 

He  put  one  trembling  hand  up  over  his  face,  his 
whole  form  quivering.  Tiic  young  man  stood  leaning 
against  the  mantel  and  looking  gloomily  in  the  fire. 

"  You  sent  for  me,"  he  said,  looking  at  his  father. 

Mr.  Hazelwood  dropped  the  hand  covering  his  face, 
and  looked  up. 


vn 


I 


1; 


\ 


A    REVELATION. 


14S 


"Yes,  Conway — you  aro  going  away,  and  I  will 
never  see  you  again  !  0  Conway,  my  boy  !  my  heart  is 
broken !" 

"  And  it  is  I  who  have  done  it !" 

"You!  No,  Conway  —  you  could  scarcely  have 
acted  otherwise  than  you  did,  believing  him  guilty — " 

Conway  lifted  his  hand  to  interpose. 

"  I  believe  it  no  longer  1  Eugene  never  murdered 
Helen  Thornton  I" 

"  Conway  ?" 

"I  am  speaking  the  truth — don't  look  as  if  you 
thought  me  mad.  Eugene  Hazelwood  died  an  innocent 
man  !" 

**  My  God  !  and  you — you  were  his  accuser  !" 

**I  know  it !  his  blood  is  on  my  head,  and — on  that 
of  one  other,  a  devil  in  human  form.  Yes,  recoil  from 
me,  father,  look  on  me  with  horror,  for  throuj,'.  me  he 
^Dcrished.  I  have  but  one  excuse  to  offer  in  palliation — 
I  believed  him  guilty  when  I  did  it." 

Hia  father  sat  looking  at  him,  his  lips  apart,  his 
eyes  distended,  perfectly  speechless. 

"It  is  hardly  two  hours  ago  since  I  discovered  the 
horrible  mistake  that  has  been  made ;  how  I  discovered 
it,  or  who  the  real  criminal  io,  I  cannot  tell.     Suffice  it 


146 


A    REVELATION. 


to  say,  Eugene  died  guiltless  of  the  crimo  of  murder — 
more  than  I  shall  ever  bo  able  to  say,  for  his  death  lies 
at  my  door." 

Still  Mr.  Hazclwood  did  not  speak,  could  not  speak 
'ho  only  sat,  his  face  rigid  in  that  white  horror. 

"I  have  come  hero  to-night  to  tell  you  this,  father 
the  deep,  stern  tones  of  Conway  went  on,  **  and  to  make 
still  another  revelation  before  I  leave  my  native  land 
forever.  It  concerns  these  children,  infants  left  here  so 
mysteriously  on  Christmas  eve.  Father,  these  children 
are  mine." 

There  was  a  gasping  cry  from  the  old  man  in  the 
chair,  but  Conway  never  took  his  gloomy  eyes  off  the 
fire. 

"The  letter  found  with  them  spoke  the  truth;  that 
letter  was  written  by  me.  They  are  your  grand- 
children ;  I  have  been  married  for  nearly  three  years. 
I  stole  them  from  their  mothei',  no  matter  for  what 
reason,  and  brougiit  them  here.  I  leave  them  in  your 
care.  I  know  you  will  provide  for  their  future,  for  it  is 
not  probable  they  will  ever  know  a  father's  care.  And 
now,  sir,  farewell.  I  cannot  ask  your  forgiveness  for 
what  I  have  done  ;  the  only  atonement  I  can  make  is  to 
quit  the  home  I  have  desolated  forever.     I  go  to-nighb 


i 


A    REVELA  TIOK 


147 


■I 


— farewell,  fnfchev  ;  if  you  cannot  bless,  try  not  to  curse, 
your  first-born  son  !" 

Ho  was  gono  ovoa  while  he  spoke.  The  nursery  wag 
on  his  wiiy  to  the  staircuso,  and  the  door  standing  ajar 
as  he  passed  ;  he  went  in.  All  was  quiet  tliero ;  on  a 
low  French  bed  with  snowy  draperies  the  twins  lay 
asleep  ;  their  long  black  curls  tossed  over  the  pillows, 
their  cheeks  flushed,  their  fat  white  arms  interlaced  in 
their  slumbers.  h\  a  crib  at  a  short  distance,  Mrs. 
Wood's  little  daughter,  Hazel,  was  sleeping,  too  ;  and 
the  nurserymaid,  Jane,  had  fallen  into  the  same  state 
at  a  table,  over  her  work.  A  more  perfect  picture  of 
innocence  and  peace  could  hardly  be  imagined  ;  and 
Conway  Hazelwood  on  iiis  way  to  voluntary  exile,  stood 
long  bending  over  the  bed,  gazing  at  the  two  pretty  rosy 
faces  therein.  His  thoughts  could  hardly  have  been 
pleasant  ones  ;  for  his  face  was  dark  as  the  grave,  as  ho 
looked  down  with  knitted  brows  and  compressed  lips  at 
his  sleeping  children 

He  turned  away  at  last  as  Jane,  with  a  loud  yawn, 
gave  symptoms  of  waking  up;  and  going  slowly  down 
stairs,  went  out  of  the  front  door,  without  encountering 
any  one,  and  Conway  Hazelwood  had  left  his  father's 
house  forever  ! 


148 


STOLEy. 


Half  an  hour  after,  Mrs. "Wood,  entering  her  brother's 
room,  found  him  lying  on  his  face  on  the  floor  as  cold 
and  lifeless  as  a  dead  man. 


CHAPTER   X. 


STOLEN". 

HE  golden  glory  of  a  June  afternoon  streaming 
through  the  wide-open  doors  and  windows  of 
a  pleasant  old  farmhouse,  half  buried  in  a 
tangled  wilJernt'Ss  of  grape-vines  and  sweet-brier,  fell  in 
brilliant  squares  of  luster  on  the  pretty  medallion  carpet, 
rosewood  furniture,  and  inlaid  tables  of  a  charming  little 
sitting-room.  The  lace-covered  front  windows,  through 
which  the  June  breezes  blew  the  odors  of  the  sweet-brier 
and  rose  bushes  around  it,  overlooked  the  one  long, 
dust}^  straggling  street  of  a  quiet  country-village  ;  and 
the  windows  opposite,  filled  with  flowerpots  and  canary- 
cages,  looked  out  on  a  flowing  river,  flashing  and  glit- 
tering in  the  summer  sunliglit.  So  still  was  the  room 
in  the  sultry  noon  stillness,  that  the  rustling  of  the  vines 
and  the  shrill  singing  of  the  canaries  sounded  pretcr- 


fi 


STOLEN. 


149 


i 


naturally  loud,  and  joined  in  a  drowsy  cliorus  with  the 
buzzing  of  the  flies  and  the  chirping  of  the  grasshoppers 
without. 

The  quiet  room  had  but  one  occupant :  naar  an  open 
piano,  in  a  low  rocking-chair — that  great  American  insti- 
tution— swinging  backward  and  forward,  a  young  lady 
sat,  with  a  book  in  her  hand.  A  very  young  lady, 
loooking  fifteen  or  thereabouts,  with  pretty,  delicate 
features,  a  skin  of  snowy  fairness,  a  profusion  of  flaxen 
hair,  worn  in  a  net ;  small,  rostkss,  light-blue  eyes,  shift- 
ing but  keen,  under  eyebrows  so  light  as  to  be  scarcely 
worth  mentioning.  The  young  lady  was  dresed  in  deep 
mourning,  its  sable  hues  setting  off  her  bloi.de  beauty 
like  a  pearl  incased  in  jet.  Her  book  was  "  Corinne  "; 
and  so  absorbed  was  she  in  its  pages,  that  she  did  not 
hear  the  garden-gate  open,  nor  the  tread  of  a  man's  foot 
coming  up  the  graveled  path.  A.  sharp  double  knock, 
like  a  postman's,  at  the  open  front  door,  startled  her  at 
hist,  and  rising,  she  went  out  to  the  hall.  A  little  dark 
til  in  man,  wearing  spectacles  and  a  suit  of  dingy  black, 
stood  there,  and  the  young  lady  opened  her  small  blue 
eyes  in  astonishment  at  sight  of  him. 

"Doctor  Lance  ?" 

The  little  man  nodded  grimly. 


150 


8T0LEK 


"  You  arc  Una,  eli  ?  I  remember  your  face  very 
well  !  How  d'ye  do  ?  Anybody  besides  you  in  the 
house  ?" 

"  Aunt  Emily  has  gone  out  somewhere,  but  she  will 
be  here  in  a  moment.  Please  to  walk  in  and  sit  down." 
Dr.  Lance  promptly  accepting  Miss  Forest's  polite  in- 
vitation, followed  her  into  the  pretty  sitting-room,  and 
ensconced  liimself  in  an  armchair  beside  the  window. 

**'So  you've  all  been  in  trouble  since  1  left  New 
York,  eh.     How  long  is  it  since  your  uncle  died  ?'' 

Una  produced  a  handkerchief,  bordered  an  inch 
deep  with  black,  and  applied  it  to  her  eyes. 

"He  died  a  fortnight  after — after  Eugene.  He  was 
found  on  the  floor  of  his  room  that  nigiit  in  a  fit,  and 
never  rose  from  his  bed  afterward.  Una's  voice  was  lost 
in  a  sob.  Doctor  Lance  sat  and  eyed  her  like  a 
stoic. 

"  He  made  a  will,  eh  ?    Did  he  make  a  will  ?" 

**  Yes,  sir — the  day  before  he  died." 

"  He  died  sure,  then  1  "Who'd  have  thought  it  I" 
Baid  Dr.  Lance,  parenthetically,  no  way  discomposed  by 
Una's  tears.     **  How  did  he  leave  his  property." 

Una  looked  at  him,  rather  at  a  loss  how  to  answer. 
Dr.  Lance  put  it  more  directly. 


STOLEN. 


151 


V' 


^1 


"Did  he  leave  you  anything,  Miss  Una  ?" 

"Yes,  sir — tlie  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars  when  I 
come  of  age." 

"  He  did,  eh  ?  Not  bad,  considering  he  was  not  a 
rich  man.     What  did  he  leave  Mrs.  "Wood  ?" 

**  An  annuity  for  her  lifetime,  and  this  farm  ;  both, 
with  the  addition  of  three  thousand  dollars,  to  become 
Hazel's  at  her  mother's  death." 

"  Very  liberal,  very  !  But  Hazolwood  always  had 
his  hand  in  his  pocket  for  his  poor  relations.  All 
the  rest  goes  to  his  two  sou?      duppose  ?" 

"  Oh  no,  sir.  There  were  two  other  legacies,  besides 
what  was  left  to  the  old  servants." 

"Two  other  legacies,  ch  ?    For  whom  ?" 

Una  dropped  her  pocket-handkerchief,  and  fixed  her 
shifting  blue  eyes  on  the  keen  dark  face. 

"  Do  you  remember  last  Christmas  eve,  sir  ?  You 
were  at  our  house,  you  know,  and  saw  the  two  children 
left  in  the  hall  ? 

"  Of  course.     You  don't  mean  to  say — " 

"Yes  sir.  Uncle  left  them  five  thousand  dollars 
each,  to  be  paid  them  on  attaining  their  majority,  and 
strict  directions  about  their  education  ;  and  you,  sir, 
are  appointed  their  guardian.  " 


153 


STOLEN. 


Doctor  Lance  never  swore  ;  he  wa,s  an  instructor  of 
youth,  but  he  looked  at  this  last  amiouncement  as  if  ho 
would  like  to.  Ilis  dark  brows  knit  portentously,  and 
his  thin  lips  puckered  up. 

"  What  did  j'ou  say  ?  Appointed  me  their  guardian  ! 
I  guardian  OA^r  two  little  girls? 

"Over  three,  sir,  for  Hazel  is  included.  Uncle 
wished  to  see  you  very  much  before  he  died,  but  you  had 
gone  to  Cuba ;  and  as  wc  came  liere  immediately  after, 
Aunt  Emily  could  not  find  out  whether  you  liad  returned 
or  not,  and  that  is  the  reason  you  did  not  hear  all  this 
sooner." 

Anything  grimmer  than  Dr.  Lance's  face  the  sun 
never  shone  on.  Una  thouglit  of  pictures  she  liad 
seen  of  South  Sea  idol ;,  and  made  up  her  mind  the  aus- 
tere little  Professor  might  have  sat  as  a  model  for  these 
works  of  art.  lie  jumped  up  from  his  chair,  thrust  his 
hands  behind  him,  and  began  an  excited  promenade 
up  and  down  the  carpet. 

"It's  tlio  most  preposterous  thing  I  ever  heard  of, 
making  me  guardian  to  a  parcel  'f  lliglity,  silly  female 
fools — for  I  never  knew  a  young  girl  yet  who  wasn't  a 
fool — and  the  Hazel  woods  the  greatest  fools  of  all  I  If 
I  had  been  with  Ilugh  Ilazehvood,  I  should  have  posi- 


V 


STOLEN. 


ISS 


I 


tively  refused  it.  The  man  must  have  been  mad ! 
Where  were  hia  own  sons,  young  lady,  that  I  had  to  be 
lugged  into  the  matter  ?"  demanded  the  Professor, 
turning  suddenly,  not  to  say  fiercely,  on  Miss  For- 
est. 

**  Conway  was  away,  sir,  to  Europe,  and  none  knew 
his  address.  Arthur,  you  know,  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion—"     • 

"  I  should  think  so.  No  more  brains  than  a  baboon  ; 
but,  then,  brains  never  were  characteristic  of  the  fam- 
ily. I  thought  Eugene,  by  some  accident,  had  got  a 
few,  until  he  proved  himself  as  great  a  ninny  as  the 
rest.  Where  are  these  confounded — I  mean  where  are 
these  children  ?  If  I  am  to  bo  tormented  by  them  for 
the  rest  of  my  life,  it  strikes  mo  it  is  time  I  saw 
them  1" 

Una  rose,  and  looked  out. 

*'  Tliey  wore  in  the  garden,  with  their  nurse,  a  short 
time  ago,  sir.     Shall  I  go  in  search  of  them  ?" 

Doctor  Lance  nodded  shortly,  and  took  a  pinch  of 
snuff.     As  Una  crossed  the  hall,  she  met  her  aunt 


coming  in. 


"  Doctor  Lance  is  in  the  sitting-room,  aunty,  and  in 
Buch  a  fume.    You  had  better  go  in  and  talk  to  him  ; 
7* 


154 


STOLEN. 


he  has  sent  me  after  the  children  ;  and  there  they  are, 
rolling  about  like  little  pigs,  in  the  dust  of  the  road  1 
Jane  deserves  to  get  her  ears  boxed  !" 

Rolling  about,  the  three  little  ones  certainly  were, 
in  a  cloud  of  dust  in  the  middle  of  the  road  ;  their 
frocks  that  had  been  of  spotless  white  that  morning, 
anything  but  white  now ;  laughing,  screaming,  in  the 
glee  of  childhood,  and  tumbling  over  each  other,  as  Una 
said,  like  three  little  pigs. 

"  Pretty  objects  they'll  be  for  this  amiable  guardian 
to  contemplate  !    Where  can  Jane  be  ?    Why — " 

Una  leaning  over  the  wooden  gate,  stopjicd  suddenly 
at  the  sight  that  met  her  eyes.  A  tall  willow,  whose 
long  branches  trailed  on  the  grass,  was  near  the  gate, 
and,  under  its  agreeable  shade.  Miss  Janet  sat,  very 
much  at  her  ease,  and  totally  indifferent  to  the  very  ex- 
istence of  her  obstreperous  charges.  Not  alone,  either  : 
a  queer  figure  sat  beside  her,  holding  her  hand,  and 
peering  intently  in  her  palm — the  figure  of  an  old  wo- 
man, miserably  clad,  and  ugly  enough  to  be  one  of  the 
witches  in  "  Macbeth." 

**  Fortune-telling,  oh  ?"  said  Una,  catching  Doctor 
Lance's  sharp  interrogative  ;  "  I  have  seen  that  hideous 
old  woman  lurking  about  here  often  within  the  lasfc 


; 


STOLEN. 


tm 


week,  and  she  came  begging  to  the  kitchen-door  yester- 
day.    Here,  Jane  !" 

Jane  started  up  with  a  very  red  and  guilty  face  at 
sight  of  the  young  hidy. 

*'  Look  at  those  children  I"  said  Una.  "  Are  they 
not  nice  objects,  with  mud  and  dust,  by  this  time  ? 
You're  a  pretty  nurse,  and  a  fine  hand  to  be  trusted  out 
of  sight.  I  suppose  this  is  the  way  they  are  always 
taken  care  of  when  they  are  sent  out  with  you." 

"I  can't  help  it,"  said  Jane,  rather  sulkily.  **  I 
can't  do  nothing  with  that  little  limb.  Miss  Hazel. 
She'll  roll  in  the  dirt,  in  spite  of  all  the  nurses  from 
here  to  Jericho." 

"Very  well,  we  will  see  what  her  mother  will  say 
when  I  tell  her  you  spend  your  time  gadding  with  old 
witches  instead  of  minding  your  work.  Take  them 
into  the  room,  and  think  yourself  lucky  if  you  are  not 
discharged  at  the  end  of  the  month." 

Jane,  with  a  very  sulky  face,  went  over  and  dragged 
Mrs.  Wood's  offspring,  with  no  gentle  jerk,  out  of  the 
dirt,  while  the  old  spae-wife  hobbled  up  to  the  gate  and 
stood  peering  up  in  Miss  Forest's  face. 

"Let  me  tell  you  your  fortune,  my  pretty  lady," 
she  said,  holding  out  her  withered  hand ;  "  there  must 


156 


STOLEN. 


I 


be  something  very  good  in  the  future  for  the  owner  of 
so  handsome  a  face." 

Una  laughed  a  mocking  little  laugh. 

"  You  can  flatter  bettor  than  you  can  speer  fortunes, 
old  lady,  I  fancy.  Are  your  hands  clean  ?  No  ;  then, 
I  guess,  I  Avon't  mind  having  my  fortune  told.  Jane  I 
I  told  you  to  take  those  children  into  the  house." 

As  Jane  went  through  the  gate  with  her  charges, 
one  of  whom — Miss  Hazel — was  kicking,  and  scream- 
ing, and  plunging  manfully  to  got  free,  Una  saw  her 
exchange  a  meaning  glance  with  the  old  woman.  The 
young  lady  read  the  glance  aright,  it  said:  "We  have 
been  interrupted,  but  I  will  come  again ;  wait !"  and 
the  fortune-teller  understood,  and  nodded  assent. 

"You  had  better  not  be  loitering  around  here,  old 
woman,"  said  Una,  sharply,  turning  after  Jane  into  the 
house.  "We  don't  want  our  serv""ts'  heads  turned 
with  your  nonsense.  Take  my  advice,  and  go  some- 
where else  !" 

Without  waiting  to  see  whether  she  were  obeyed  or 
not.  Miss  Forest  went  back  to  the  house,  and  the  old 
woman  stood  looking  after  the  slight  girlish  figure,  with 
the  flaxen  hair  and  the  mourning  dress. 

"  Like  the    rest  1   like    the    rest  1"  she   muttered, 


r 


f 


STOLEN. 


157 


"  Cold-blooded,  cruel,  and  crafty  !  Ah  !  they're  a  bad 
lot — a  bad  lot,  every  one  of  these  Ilazehvoods,  young 
and  old !" 

In  the  hall,  Una,  met  Jane,  still  lighting  with  Hazel, 
whoso  kicks  and  plunging  were  more  violent  than  ever. 

"Wash  their  faces  and  comb  their  hair,  and  put  on 
clean  dresses,  and  tlien  fetch  them  into  the  sitting- 
room,"  wore  her  orders.  "There's  a  gentleman  there 
wants  to  see  them.  Hazel,  bo  good,  and  you  shall  have 
some  cake  and  Jam,  by  and  by  !" 

Little  Miss  Wood,  who  was  a  great  gourmand,  loving 
cake  and  jam  better  than  anything  earthly,  except  mis- 
chief, looked  up  at  this,  vividly  interested  : 

"  Cake  and  jam  !  a  whole  lot.  Cousin  Una  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  whole  lot,  if  you  are  a  good  girl,  and  let 
Jane  Avash  and  dress  you,  and  behave  pretty  in  the  sit- 
ting-room.    Now,  you  go  away." 

Miss  Hazel  at  once  wilted  down,  and  consented  to  be 
led  off,  while  Una  v/ent  toward  the  sitting-room.  The 
sound  of  her  own  namec:->.ught  her  ear  through  the  partly 
open  door,  and  she  stopped  to — well,  to  listen.  Mrs. 
Wood  was  speaking,  with  little  tearful  sniffs  for  punctu- 
ation-marks. ' 

"Yes,  Doctor  Lance,  as  you  8ay>  it  is  a  very  queer 


158 


STOLEN. 


will,  leaving  as  much  to  these  two  foundlings  as  to  his 
own  flesh  and  blood  ;  but  then  poor  dear  Hugh  was 
always  odd  and  romantic,  and  fond  of  reading  novels, 
and  I  dare  say  he  took  his  sentimental  notions  from 
them.  Five  thousand  a  piece  he  left  them,  and  if 
either  one  dies  before  the  other,  the  survivor  gets  her 
portion,  too !" 

*' Melodramatic,  very!"  said  the  displeased  tones  of 
the  little  professor.  "No  man  in  his  senses  should  have 
made  such  a  will." 

"And,  if  both  die  before  attaining  their  major- 
ity, the  ten  thousand  is  to  be  divided  equally  be- 
tween my  Hazel  and  Una  Forest.  He  left,  besides,  a 
letter,  with  half  a  dozen  seals  on  it,  for  these  twins,  to 
bo  given  them  the  day  they  are  twenty-one,  or  should 
either  one  get  married  before  that  ago  to  be  given  her 
the  day  before  the  wedding. 

"  Melodramatic  again  1  You  have  found  out  noth- 
ing more  about  those  two  twins,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Nothing  at  all ;  and  do  you  know.  Doctor  Lance, 
ever  since  I  heai'd  the  will,  I  have  been  thinking  that 
perhaps  the  note  we  found  with  them  told  the  truth, 
and  that  they  really  and  truly  were  poor  Hugh's  grand- 
children." 


STOLEN. 


159 


"  I  don't  doubt  it  in  tho  least,"  said  Doctor  Lance, 
•with  u  sardonic  snort ;  "never  did,  from  tho  first.  Any 
one  with  eyes  in  their  head  could  see  tho  Hazehvood 
paternity  in  those  small  faces  I  Well,  my  girl,  where 
are  tho  children  ?" 

This  last  question  was  addressed  to  TJna,  who  en- 
tered at  the  moment. 

"Coming,  sir;  their  nurse  will  fetch  them  in 
directly.     Oh,  there's  tlio  postman  1" 

There  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  front  door.  Una  ran 
out,  and  returned  with  a  single  letter. 

*'  It's  for  you,  auntie,  and  in  Arthur's  writing  ! 
Something  wonderful  must  have  happened  to  make  that 
lazy  fellow  write." 

Something  wonderful  evidently  had  happened;  for, 
as  Mrs.  Wood  tore  it  open,  and  read  it  without  cere- 
mony, on  the  spot,  she  uttered  a  shrill  scream  of  aston- 
ishment. 

*'  Good  gracious,  auntio  !  what  is  it  ?"  cried  the 
startled  Una ;  "  has  anything  befallen  Arthur  or—" 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Una,  will  yni "—exclaimed 
Mrs.  Wood,  in  a  high  state  of  excitement — "  until  I 
read  it  again  I  It  seems  a  great  deal  too  good  to  be 
truer 


ICO 


STOLEN. 


**  Oil,  it's  not  bad  news,  then !"  said  Una,  looking 
relieved,  while  Mrs.  Wood  rend  it  eagerly  again,  with  a 
face  all  aglow  with  surprise  and  delight. 

**  Well,  I  do  doelaro  ;  such  a  piece  of  good  fortune 
newer  was  heard  of  !"  was  her  cry  at  the  end  of  the  se- 
cond perusal.  "Here,  Doctor  Lance,  read  it  and  see 
what  he  says." 

Doctor  Lance  took  the  letter,  adjusted  his  spectacles, 
and  read  it  aloud. 

"  Dear  Aunt  : — There  has  just  been  a  letter  from 
England,  addressed  to  my  father,  anouncing  the  death 
of  his  cousin,  Mark  Ilazclwood,  of  Ilazelwood,  county 
Essex.  The  letter  comes  from  the  family-solicitor, 
inviting  my  father,  as  next  of  kin,  to  come  and  take 
possession  of  the  state,  or  in  case  of  his  decease,  his 
eldest  son,  or  next  heir.  Conway  being  absent,  and  no 
news  of  his  whereabouts,  I  start  immediately  for  Eng- 
land to  attend  to  matters,  and  try  and  discover  Conway. 
I  shall  write  to  you  from  there.        Yours, 

"A.  Hazelwood." 


"And  in  case  he  does  not  find  Conway,  he  is  heir 
himself  to  one  of  the  finest  estates  in  the  county,"  said 
Doctor  Lance,  folding  the  letter.  "  I  don't  think  Mr. 
Arthur  will  die  broken-hearted  if  his  crack-skulled  elder 
brother  never  turns  up  1" 


STOLEir. 


tw 


>  ' 


"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  piece  of  luck  in  all  my 
days,"  said  Mrs.  Wood.  "I  wi.sh  he  would  send  for  mo 
to  keep  houi?e  for  liim.  They  say  it's  a  bcauMful  place, 
and  I  always  did  want  to  visit  old  England." 

"Conway  is  the  heir,  and  after  him  his  children," 
said  Doctor  Lance  ;  "so,  if  these  twins  should  actually 
liappen  to  be —     OIi,  here  tiicy  are  1" 

Jane  entered  with  Miss  Hazel  "Wood  (happily  chosen 
name)  and  the  Misses  Rosamond  and  Evangeline  Starr ; 
all  these  witli  faces  rosy  and  shining  from  the  combined 
effects  of  good  health  and  a  recent  severe  application  of 
soap  and  water. 

Doctor  Lance  took  very  little  notice  of  Hazel,  but 
ho  bent  his  black  brows  and  puckered  up  his  lips  in  his 
peculiar  way,  as  ho  looked  keenly  at  the  twins. 

"The  black  eyes  and  curls,  the  fresh  complexion, 
sanguine  temperament  and  well-cut  features  of  Con 
■way,"  ho  said,  reflectively.     "Madam,  these  little  girls 
will  one    day   bo    the    heiresses   of    the    Ilazclwoods. 
There,  nurse,  you  may  take  them  away  again  !" 

**I  want  the  cake,  Una!  I  shan't  go  without  the 
cake  !"  cried  out  ILizel,  as  she  was  being  led  away  ;  and 
Una  followed  to  keep  her  promise. 

Doctor  Lance  took  his  hat  to  go,  when  they  left  the 


163 


STOLEN. 


room,  declining  Mrs.  Wood's  pressing  invitation  to  stay 
for  tea. 

"I  am  going  to  Xew  Yoik  by  the  five  o'clock  train, 
and  miTst  ftart  for  the  depot  at  once.  If  I  have  time  I 
will  run  down  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  to  see  how 
you  and  my  wanls — confound  them  ! — are  getting  on. 
Good  day  r 

Mrs.  Wood  escorted  him  out  of  doors,  watched  him 
out  of  sight,  and  then  went  back  to  find  Una  and  talk 
over  the  last  wonderful  event. 

"What  a  romantic  thing  it  would  be,  Una,  if  these 
twins  should  indeed  turn  out  to  be  Conway's  children, 
and  after  a  while  come  to  inherit  all  his  great  estate  ! 
It  would  be  like  a  story  in  a  novel — wouldn't  it  now  ?" 

Una  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  smiled  contempt- 
uously. 

"  And  such  things  only  happen  in  novels,  auntie  ! 
I  dare  say  they  belong  to  some  washerwoman,  who  stole 
the  fine  clothes  she  sent  them  here  in.  There  they  are 
nov.',  and  nazel's  tearing  their  hair  out  in  handfuls, 
while  Jane's  looking  for — " 

"  For  what  ?"  said  Mrs.  Wood,  looking  out  into  the 
garden,  where  the  nurse  and  her  charges  were  disporting 
themselves  iu  the  sunshiae. 


MM 


STOLEK 


1C3 


"For  wliat  f^he  won't  find,"  said  Una,  turning  to 
leave  the  room  ;  ''for  an  old  woman  I  sent  about  her 
business  !  I  must  go  and  practice  now,  or  my  music- 
teacher  will  read  me  a  lecture  when  she  comes," 

Una  went  down  to  the  piano  and  commenced  her 
practicing,  dreaming  not  that  Jane  and  the  old  woman 
were  at  that  very  moment  in  close  and  confidential 
confab,  while  Hazel  Wood,,  all  unheeded,  was  making 
the  life  of  the  twins  a  misery  to  them  by  her  torment- 
ing pranks.  Three-quarters  of  an  hour  after,  while  she 
was  deep  in  the  "  Wedding  March,"  a  piercing  shriek, 
and  then  another  and  another,  from  the  garden,  made 
her  spring  from  the  music-stool,  aghast.  A  flying 
figure,  witli  wild  eyes  and  terror-stricken  face,  holding 
a  child  in  eacli  arm,  tore  up  the  graveled  walk  and  into 
the  hull,  still  seroaniitiy  in  wildest  terror.  It  was  Jane 
with  Hazel  and  oi'^  of  the  twins,  and  both  were  echoing 
hor  frantic  shrieks. 

"For  Heaven's  sak .?,  what  is  the  matter?"  Una 
cried.     "  Where's  the  other  child  ?"  , 

"0  Miss  Una!  she's  gone!  she's  gone  1"  shrieked 
Jane,  "  she's  lost  forever  !" 

"Lost!"  What  do  you  mean?  have  you  gone 
ma-i  ?" 


1G4 


BTOLEF. 


"  0  Miss  Una  !  it  was  the  old  woman  !  Oh  !  what 
shall  I  do  ?    0  Miss  Una !  the  child's  stole  !" 

**  Stolen  !  whatever  do  you  mean  ?  Has  that  wretched 
old  hag  kidnapped — " 

"Yes,  Miss  Una!  she's  kidnapped  one  of  the  twins, 
while  I  came  up  the  back  way  to  the  house  for  some 
money  to  pay  her  !  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  !  Avhat  shall 
I  do  !" 

"It's  Rosie,  Rosio,"  piped  the  small  voice  of  Hazel ; 
"it's  Eosio  she  took ;  and  she  wanted  to  take  Evey,  too, 
only  she  couldn't  carry  both." 

Una  stood  still  a  strange  light  in  her  eyes,  a  strange 
compression  about  licr  lips.  Jane's  cry  still  rang  out, 
while  she  twisted  her  hair  as  in  utter  terror. 

"Oh,  what  shall  I  do!  what  shall  I  do  I  0  Miss 
Una  !  whatever  shall  I  do  !" 

Her  cries  had  brought  the  rest  of  the  household  to 
the  spot  by  this  time,  and  Una  spoke  at  last. 

"  Search  must  be  made  for  the  old  wretch,  at  once, 
in  every  direction ;  crying  and  twisting  your  fin- 
gers won't  mend  matters  now  I  And  I  hope,"  was 
the  thought  in  her  heart,  "  that  it  never  will  be 
mended  !  It's  the  very  best  thing  that  could  have 
happened  I" 


EVE. 


165 


CHAPTER  XI. 


EVE. 


IFTEEN  years!  Don't  start,  dear  patient 
reader ;  you  liave  waded  with  mo  through 
the  last  ten  chapters ;  in  my  deep  gratitude 
for  that,  I  will  not  afflict  you  with  any  moralizing  on 
tlie  joys  and  sorrows,  the  deatlis  and  births,  the  ups  and 
downs  that  arc  sure  to  checker  this  changeful  and  fever- 
ish life  of  ours  in  fifteen  long  years.  Long  !  yes,  a  long 
time  to  look  forward  to — very,  very  short  to  look  back 
upon  ;  and  now,  coming  with  me,  you  will  look  on  a  new 
scene,  a  little  less  dark  and  tragic  than  those  we  have 
gazed  on  heretofore. 

It  is  a  June  evening  ;  and  fifteen  years  lie  between  it 
and  that  other  June  evening,  on  which  Una  Forest's 
blue  eyes  glittered  triumphantly,  looking  out  on  the 
dusty  Iiighroad,  in  search  of  the  stolen  child.  The  eky 
is  as  blue  and  cloudless,  but  the  sinking  sun  is  shining 
on  another  village,  many  a  mile  away.  No  thrifty  Qua- 
ker vilhige  this,  witli  its  corner-groceries,  its  busy  rail- 
way-station,  its  freshly-painted    meeting-houses,    and 


166 


EVE. 


mechanic's  institutes,  with  its  streets  all  life  and  bustle, 
and  the  sign  of  the  almighty  dollar  everywhere.  No  ; 
this  voiceless  village  lies  under  the  shadow  of  giant  pine 
and  towering  tamaracs,  hushed  in  stagnant  stillness  ;  it 
has  quaint  little  cottages  with  gardens  in  front,  where 
purple  lilacs  and  golden  laburnums  bloom ;  and  the 
women  who  gossip  at  the  garden-gates,  with  long  gold 
earings  dangling  under  tlic  silk  handkerchiefs  knotted 
under  their  chins,  speak  a  glibber  and  more  vivacious 
language  than  you  ever  hear  "down  East."  A  queer- 
looking  old  stone  church,  and  a  queer-looking  old  stone 
convent,  both  surmounted  by  tall  crosses,  bespeak  the 
faith  of  the  inhabitants.  It  is  the  Cliurch  and  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Holy  Cross ;  the  village  itself  is  called  St. 
Croix  ;  the  river  sparkling  in  the  distance  is  the  beauti- 
ful St.  Lawrence ;  and  you  and  I  are  in  Lower 
Canada. 

The  Convent  of  the  Holy  Cross,  whose  bell  is  now 
ringing  the  evening  Angolus,  stands  on  a  hillside,  at 
some  distance  from  the  village.  There  is  only  one  otlier 
dwelling  near  it — a  building  as  large  as  itself,  much 
more  modern  in  structure,  with  extensive  and  beautiful 
grounds  around  it,  and  inclosed  by  a  high  stone  wall. 
The  wall  and  the  massive  iron  gates  have  rather  the  look 


EVE. 


167 


of  a  prison,  and  a  prison  it  is  to  some  of  its  inmates  ; 
but  on  the  silver  doorpliitc  yon  will  find  a  different  story: 
'^Madame  Moreau,  Poisionnat  Desinoisellcs.'*  The  most 
stylish  and  exclusive  of  country  schools,  fifty  pupils 
only,  admitted,  as  its  rules  tell  you — thirty  boarders, 
and  twenty  cxternes  as  day-scholars.  There  are  some 
wealtliy  Canadian  and  English  families  in  St.  Croix, 
and  these  day-scholars  are  tlieir  children.  The  board- 
ers come  from  all  parts — England,  the  United  States, 
the  Provinces,  but  chiefly  from  Montreal.  There  are 
half  a  dozen  female  teachers  who  live  in  the  pensionnat, 
besides  four  or  five  professors  of  the  sterner  sex  who 
come  and  go  to  give  lessons.  These  gentlemen  come 
from  Montreal — it  is  near  enough  to  the  city  for  that — • 
the  cars  take  them  in  less  than  two  hours  ;  and  nothing 
masculine,  with  the  exception  of  an  overgrown  tomcat, 
resides  within  its  sanctified  walls,  consecrated  by  the  pres- 
ence ol  jeitnes  filles,  innocence,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Jean  Baptiste,  the  surly  old  gardener,  sleeps  in  his 
lodge,  near  the  entrance-gates,  with  his  son  Amadco, 
who  acts  as  porter  ;  and  Loup,  the  large  Canadian  wolf- 
hound, lias  his  kennel  under  the  tamaracs.  Madame  is 
a  widow,  a  Parisienne,  and  drags  out  a  dreary  existence 
in  Canada,  because  she  is  making  her  fortune,  and  in- 


108 


EVE. 


tends  to  go  back  by-and-by  to  belle  Paris  to  spend  it  and 
her  old  age  in  luxury. 

The  playground  of  the  school  is  behind  the  house  ; 
a  large  place,  with  a  gymnasium,  lots  of  swings,  and 
with  benches  under  the  trees  for  weary  ones  to  rest. ' 
Madame  calls  it  the  "cour  de  derri^re".  She  never 
speaks  English,  and  French  is  the  language  of  the 
school — the  only  language,  in  fact,  the  mayority  of  its 
pupils  can  speak.  They  try  English  now  and  then  ;  but 
they  mince  and  munch  the  speech  of  Albion  fearfully 
through  their  Canadian  teeth,  and  fall  back  on  their 
own  oily  and  glib  French,  with  a  "  Dieu  merci !  "  of  in- 
effable relief. 

There  is  life  enough  in  the  cour  de  derrUre  now,  for 
the  externes  have  gone  homo,  and  i\\Q  pcnsionnaires  are 
enjoying  their  evening  conge  before  the  supper-bell 
rings.  Thirty  girls,  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  of  all  ages 
from  eight  to  twenty,  all  dressed  alike  in  the  week-day 
school-uniform,  gray  alpaca,  high-necked  and  long- 
sleeved,  with  neat  linen  collars  and  cuffs,  and  black-silk 
aprons  with  cunning  pockets.  All  sorts  of  girls,  tall 
and  short,  pretty  and  ugly  :  girls  with  curls,  girls  with 
braids,  girls  with  nets ;  and  girls  with  their  hair  cropped 
short,   otherwise,    *' shingled."      You   may  know   the 


EVE. 


169 


Canadians  by  their  dark  skin,  their  black  eyes,  and 
tarry  tresses  ;  the  Englisii  and  Americans  by  their  fairer 
complexions  and  lighter  hair  and  eyes ;  but  among  tlie 
tints  the  "brune"  decidedly  predominates  over  the 
blonde.  Some  are  dcvelo})ing  their  muscle  at  the  gym- 
nasium ;  some  are  swinging  ;  some  have  skijjping-ropes  ; 
some  are  playing  "  Prisoner's  Base  "  ;  some  are  dancing ; 
some  are  singing  ;  some  are  in  groups,  talking  ;  all  are 
united  in  one  thing,  making  as  much  noise  as  they  can, 
and  deafening  the  tympanums  of  teachers  who  are  over- 
seeing the  uproarious  mass. 

All  but  one.  Apart  from  all  the  rest  of  the  tumult- 
uous licrd,  under  the  feathery  branches  of  a  tall  tama- 
rac,  a  girl  is  standing  alone,  leaning  against  the  tree, 
and  watching  the  sunset  with  her  heart  in  her  eyes. 
She  is  not  a  Canadionno,  though  no  Canadienne  ever 
had  eyes  more  gloriously  dark  and  luminous,  nor  more 
shining  raven  ringlets  than  those  falling  loose  half  Avay 
to  her  waist.  A  beautiful  face,  so  young,  so  fresh,  so 
blooming,  the  oval  cheeks  aglow  with  health,  the  pretty 
mouth  of  scarlet  bloom,  the  black,  arching  eyebrows, 
nearly  meeting  above  the  aquiline  nose,  the  broad, 
thouglitful  l)row,  and  the  rounded  chin,  fair,  and  full  of 
character.  A  beautiful  face,  proud  and  spirited — ^you 
8 


170 


EVE. 


could  see  that  by  the  lofty  way  it  Avas  carried  ;  a  beauti- 
ful form,  light,  slender,  and  girlish,  as  became  its  own- 
er's sixteen  years ;  tall  for  that  age,  too  ;  and  the  hand 
playing  with  the  green  branches  dainty  enough  to 
be  Hebe's  own.  She  wore  the  sober  uniform  of  the 
school,  but  it  became  her,  as  anything  must  have 
become  such  a  figure  and  face.  She  had  a  nickname 
in  school,  "La  Princessc,"  and  she  looked  a  princess  to 
her  finger-tips.  A  portfolio  lay  at  her  feet ;  with  pen- 
cils and  brushes  she  had  been  sketching  the  sunset,  but 
was  only  thinking  now. 

"  Eve  !  Eve  Hazclwood  !  I  say.  Eve,  where  are 
you  ?"  a  shrill  falsetto  voice  cried,  in  English. 

It  aroused  the  girl  from  her  reverie,  and  she  looked 
around. 

A  plump  little  damsel,  with  rosy  cheeks,  bright 
brown  eyes,  like  a  birds,  and  two  long,  braided  pig- 
tails streaming  down  her  back,  had  doubled  up  a 
fat  little  fist  like  a  trumpet,  and  was  shouting 
through  it. 

"Me  void!"  said  the  young  lady  with  the  black 
ringlets,  in  a  clear,  sweet  voice.  "  Here,  Hazel ;  under 
the  tamaracs." 

*'And  what  are  you  doing  under  the  tamaracs?    At 


I 


EVE. 


171 


your  everlasting  drawing,  I  suppose  ?"  said  the  plump 
young  lady,  who,  thougli  three  years  the  senior  of  her 
companion,  looked  three  years  the  junior,  and  certainly 
was  that  many  years  her  junior  in  sense. 

"  No,  wa  c/ie're  ;  only  thinking." 
Hazel  Wood,  no  longer  a  cliild  of  three,  hut  a  young 
lady  of  eighteen,  flung  herself  on  the  grass,  and  looked 
up  in  her  companion's  face. 

"  Thinking's  something  I  despise,  and  wouldn't  be 
guilty  of  at  any  price.  You  had  better  look  out,  Eve, 
or  all  the  blood  will  go  to  your  head,  and  you'll  die  of 
apoplexy,  or  a  rush  of  ideas  to  the  brain.  What  were 
you  ruminating  on  now,  pray  ? — Greek  verbs  or  IlebreAV 
declensions,  or  to-morrow's  proposition  in  Algebra,  or 
the  end  of  the  world,  or  what  we're  going  to  have  for 
supper,  or — " 

"  There !  that's  enough  !  Nothing  of  the  sort.  I 
was  just  thinking  how  swiftly  time  flies." 

"  You  solemn  old  ninny  !  I  knew  it  was  something 
dismal !  You  and  What's-his-name,  Diogenes,  ought  to 
have  hung  out  in  the  same  tub.  Swiftly  time  flies,  in- 
deed !  Every  day's  like  a  month  in  this  stupid  old  bar- 
rack 1" 

"Do  you  know  what  day  this  is,  Hazel  ?" 


172 


EVE. 


"Let's  see  !  To-morrow's  half  holiday,  and  we  got 
clean  clothes  this  morning,  so  it  must  bo  Wednesday." 

"I  didn't  mean  that — the  day  of  the  month  ?" 

"Oh  !  then  I  haven'i  ic  first  idea.  My  worst  enemy 
never  can  accuse  me  of  knowing  whether  it's  the  first  or 
the  lust." 

"Shall  I  tell  you?  It's  the  twenty-ninth  of  June, 
and  the  anniversary  of  our  coming  here.  Just  six  years 
to-day  since  you  and  I  came  here  first." 

"And  wc  are  likely  to  stay  here  six  more,  for  all  I 
can  see  to  the  contrary.  I  dcchire,  I  am  growing  an 
old  maid  in  the  place,  and  no  prospect  of  leaving  it ! 
That  old  savage,  Doctor  Lance,  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
himself,  keeping  us  here  just  to  bo  out  of  the  way  !  A 
pretty  guardian  he  is  !  and  a  pretty  relation  Mr.  Arthur 
Hazelwood  is,  rolling  iji  splendor  in  England,  and  leav- 
ing us  here  to  go  melancholy  mad  if  we  choose  I  I  tell 
you  what  it  is,  Eve,  I'm  getting  desperate,  and  shall  do 
something  shortly  that  will  shake  society  to  its  utter- 
most foundations,  if  somebody  doesn't  take  mo  out  of 
this  !» 

EvG  was  silent.  The  luminous  dark  eyes  were 
gazing  at  the  sunset,  misty  and  dreamy. 

"  Six  years  !    How  short  it  seems  !    It  is  like  yester- 


EVE. 


178 


day,  Ilazol,  since  wc  stood  at  your  mother's  dying-bed, 
and  I  received  from  her  hand  that  strange  packet,  left 
for  me  by  the  uncle  whom  I  never  saw." 

Ilazel's  rosy,  chubby  face  sobered  suddenly. 

**  0  poor  mamma  !  How  we  botli  cried  that  day  I 
By  the  way.  Eve,"  jumping  witli  a  jerk  to  another 
topic,  "  I  wonder  how  Una  Forest  got,^  on  in  England  ? 
I  think  it  was  a  very  shabby  trick  in  Cousin  Arthur  to 
send  for  her  when  mamma  died,  and  leave  us  poor 
Babes  in  the  Wood  to  the  mercy  of  that  cross-grained 
little  monsler,  Doctor  Lance,  and  that  tiresome,  snufiP- 
taking,  old  Frenchwoman,  Madam  ]\Iorcau.     There  !" 

"Ilazcl,  hush  !  Wc  have  no  reason  to  complain  of 
Doctor  Lance.  lie  is  rather  crabbed,  I  allow  ;  but  he 
means  well,  and  is  as  good  to  us  as  it  is  in  his  nature  to 
bo  to  any  one.  No  one  could  be  kinder  than  ho  during 
my  illness  this  spring." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  were  half  so  ill  as  you  pretend- 
ed," said  Hazel,  testily.  "  It  was  all  a  ruse  to  get  back 
to  New  York  and  enjoy  yourself.  Dear,  delightful  New 
York  !  I  would  sham  sick  myself  to  get  back  there ; 
but  Where's  the  use  ?  Nobody  will  believe  mo  while 
my  cheeks  keep  so  horrid  red,  and  my  appetite  contin- 
ues so  powerful !    What  blessed  times  we  used  to  have 


174 


EVE. 


promenading  Broadway  every  afternoon,  and  will  have 
again,  when  vacation  comes,  please  the  pigs  1  "Well, 
Kate  Scliaffor  !    What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  you  want,  Miss  Hazel  "Wood,"  replied 
Kate  Schaffer,  a  tall,  stylish-looking  girl,  with  a  dark 
Canadian  face,  though  speaking  excellent  English,  "and 
that  is,  a  little  manners  ! " 

"Oh,"  said  Eve,  laughing,  "manners  and  Cousin 
Hazel  might  be  married,  for  they  are  no  relation." 

Miss  Ilazcl,  no  way  discomposed  by  these  left-handed 
compliments,  sat  lazily  up  on  the  grass. 

"Is  it  near  tea-time,  Kate?  I  smelt  hot  biscuit  a 
while  ago,  when  I  applied  my  nose  to  the  kitchen  don- 
key-hole, but  my  prophetic  soul  is  inclined  to  the  mo- 
tion that  Madame  has  company,  and  they're  not  for 
us." 

"  Your  prophetic  soul  has  hit  the  right  nail  on  the 
head,  then,"  said  Miss  Schaffer.  "Madame  has  com- 
pany, and  you  are  doomed  to  the  stale  bread  of  everyday 
existence  as  usual." 

IIuzcl  sighed,  and  gave  a  dejected  roll  on  the  grass. 

"I  have  just  come  from  the  parlor,  though,"  said 
Kate,  looking  at  her,  "  and  I've  got  something  for  you 
better  than  hot  biscuit." 


EVE. 


17S 


"I  don't  believo  it  1  There's  nobody  to  send  me 
plumcakc,  and  that's  the  only  tiling  in  this  world  I  do 
like  better." 

"Except,"  said  Kate,  still  eyeing  her,  "my  cousin 
Paul." 

Hazel  sprnng  np  from  the  grass,  as  if  she  had  been 
galvanized.     Her  eyes  dilated,  her  whole  face  aglow. 

"  0  Kate  !    lias  Paul  come  ?" 

"Ah  !  I  thought  that  would  do  it,"  said  Miss  Schaf- 
fcr,  coolly.  "Paul's  better  than  plumcake,  is  he  ?  Oh 
yes  ;  he's  come,  and  so  has  mamma  and  Monsieur  d'Ar- 
villo  ;  and  they're  all  going  to  stay  and  take  tea  with 
Miidamc,  and  it's  for  them  the  hot  biscuit  are,  and  you'll 
never  taste  them." 

But  the  hot  biscuit  had  lost  their  attraction.  Hazel 
stood  with  i)!irtcd  lips,  her  color  coming  and  going,  look- 
ing at  Kate. 

And  K;itc  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"D.»  look  at  her.  Eve  !  and  all  about  that  foppish 
noodle,  Paul  Schallor,  The  gods  forofond  that  I  should 
fall  in  love,  if  it  is  going  to  make  me  act  like  that.  I 
must  go." 

She  drew  out  of  her  pocket  a  little  triangular  note, 
threw  it  to  Hazel,  and  sauntered  off. 


ITG 


EVE. 


In  a  ?eeonJ.  Hazel  had  torn  it  open  and  devoured  its 
contents,  her  che«C'ki  flushed,  her  eyes  sparkling. 

As  she  looked  np  in  a  rapture  at  its  conclusion,  she 
found  the  dark  bright  eyes  of  Eve  fixed  upon  lier. 

•'  0  Eve  !  he  wants  me  to — " 

"  "WelJ,"  siid  Eve,  gravely,  "  ho  wants  you  to  do 
what  ?" 

Hazel  pouted. 

"You're  nothing  but  a  stiff  old  prude  !  I  sha'n't 
tell  you  !    Oh.  there's  the  bi'll  I     Come  to  sup[)er.'' 

She  flew  off  as  she  spoke,  like  a  lapwing,  tlirusting 
tlie  note  into  Love's  own  post-office — lier  bosom. 

Eva  Hazelwood  followeil  more  slowly,  fell  into  the 
rank  with  the  rest,  and  marched  into  the  saUe  d  man- 
ger, when*  a  long  table  was  laid  for  the  thirty  hungry 
pensionnaire.*,  and  the  six  teachers. 

After  supper,  came  study  ;  after  tliat,  evening-read- 
ing and  prayers :  and  then  the  girls  went  off  to  their 
rooms.  Every  two  shared  a  chamber,  and  Eve  and 
Hazel  had  not  been  separated  from  tlie  first.  Very 
plainly  these  Khambrf's  d  concJier  were  furnished  :  a 
painted  floor,  two  small  French  beds,  with  hardly  room 
to  turn  in — bnt  Madame  Moreau  was  of  the  same 
opinion  as  the  Iron  Duke,  tliat  when  one  begins  to  turn 


t 


EVE. 


177 


in  bed,  it  is  time  to  turn  out  of  it — a  washstand,  a  table, 
two  cbairs,  and  two  trunks. 

Tbc  room  tbo  cousins  occupied  was  on  tbe  second 
floor,  and  overlooked  the  playground. 

Eve  set  tlie  lamp  she  carried  on  the  table,  and  drew 
forth  slate  and  ]H'ncil  to  ^vrite  to-morrow's  composition, 
the  suljji'ct,  'TuliLical  Economy." 

Ilazol  did  the  same;  but  her  pencil  only  drew  fox- 
and-geese,  and  her  mmd  was  running  on  a  far  sweeter 
subject  than  dry  "  Puliticai  Economy." 

So  they  sat  opposite  each  other  for  an  hour,  neither 
speaking  a  word,  until,  at  the  loud  ringing  of  the  nine 
o'clock  bell — the  signal  to  extinguish  all  lights  and  go 
to  bed — Eve  looked  up. 

"Havo  you  finished  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Yos — no — I  don't  know,"  stammered  Hazel,  wak- 
ing from  lur  day-dreaming. 

"  Why.  y(ni  haven't  v/rittcn  a  word  I  Why,  Hazel, 
what  have  you  been  about  ?" 

*'0h,  it's  no  odds  I"  said  Hazel,  with  sublime  indif- 
ference. "  I'll  coi)y  somebody  else's  to-morrow  1  Let's 
go  to  bed  !" 

"  We  will  have  to,"  said  Eve,  "  for  here  comes  Miss 
Green  for  tlie  light." 


178 


EYE. 


An  under-teaclicr  entered,  took  tlic  lamp  and  went 
out.  Eve  knelt  down,  said  her  prayers,  undressed 
rapidly,  and  went  to  bed  ;  but  Hazel  sat  by  the  window, 
looking  out  at  tlie  moonlight,  and  doing  something 
Tery  unusual  with  lior,  thinking. 

*'Do  you  mean  to  sit  there  all  niglit,"  demanded 
Eve,  drowsily.  **  You  have  got  very  sentimental  all  of 
a  .sudden,  watching  tlio  moon." 

"I'm  studying  astronomy — that's  all.  N"cver  you 
mind  me.     I  have  got  very  fond  of  it  lately  !" 

"  I  slioiild  think  so  !  You  won't  have  an  eye  in  your 
head  to-morrow  !    Go  to  sleep  I" 

"Go  yourself  !"  said  Hazel  testily,  "and  don't  both- 
er r 

Eve  did  as  directed,  and  dropped  asleep  ten  minutes 
after.  The  convent-boll  pealing  eleven  awoke  her  from 
a  vivid  dream  of  seeing  Hazel  drowning,  and  she  started 
uj)  in  bed,  her  heart  tliroblnng. 

"  0  Hazel !  I  have  had  such  a  dream  !  Are  you 
asleep  ?'' 

No,  Hazel  was  not  asleep — was  not  in  tlio  room  at 
all  !  The  full  midnight  moon  sliining  in  showed  an 
empty  bed,  a  vacant  chair,  and  an  open  window. 

It  all  flashed  on  Eve  at  once,  she  rose  up  and  went 


^f 


wa.ai^ii'm'iwiina 


EVE, 


179 


r 


to  tlio  window,  Yos,  there  was  a  rope-ladeler,  and  tlicro 
wore  two  figures  walking  in  the  moonliglit,  under  the 
ehaduws  of  the  trees — one,  tlio  tall  form  of  a  man;  the 
otiii    ,  sliawltnl  and  hooded,  Hazel  Wood. 

]']ve  went  haek  to  lier  bed,  her  cheeks  burning,  her 
heart  tlirobbiiig.  Tea  minutes  passed,  twenty,  half  an 
hour,  and  then  ,-lie  heard  Hazel  enter  softly,  and  pause 
to  listen  for  an  in  -(ant. 

"Good  night,"  Eve  heard  her  breathe  softly  to  some 
one  below,  as  slio  shut  tlic  window.  "She  is  asleep. 
Farewell  until  to-morrow  I'' 

After  whieh  Miss  Wood  retired  to  rest,  but  not  to 
sleep.  Long  after  Eve  had  dropped  once  more  into  the 
innocent  and  untronbled  slumber  that  rarely  comes  after 
sixteen, seldom  with  boarding-school  damsels  lasts  so  long, 
Ilazi'l  was  tossing  back  and  furtli  on  her  pillow,  her 
heart  in  a  tumult  of  delicious  unrest,  and  one  name  ever 
on  her  lips:     "Dear,  dear,  dear,  Paul !" 


'  Love  not !  love  not !  0  warning  vainly  said !" 


Very  true,  Mrs.  Norton,  and  one  moth  will  not  take 
warning  by  its  singed  brother,  but  will  flutter  round 
the  fiery  fascination  until  its  own  wings  are  singed,  and 
has  nothing  left  to  do  but  drop  down  and  die.     And  so, 


180 


THE    PEXSrONXAIRES'     FETR. 


IL'izcl  Wood,  poor  little  fool  1  droam  on  wliilo  you  may  ! 
You  will  pass  through  tho  Cory  ordoal,  and  your  darling 
Paul  will  caro  just  as  mucli  as  tho  candle  does  for  tho 
moth  I 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE   I'KXSIOXNAIRES'   FETE. 


VE  !" 

"Well?" 

"  IIow  long  have  you  been  up,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?" 

''Half  an  hour." 

Hazel  Wood  rose  upon  her  elbow  in  bed  with  a  loud 
yawn.  The  morning  sunlight  streaming  in  througli  tho 
open  window,  Avith  the  matin  songs  of  tlie  birds,  and 
the  sweet  scents  of  lilacs  and  laburnums  fell  on  Evo 
Hazelwood,  putting  the  finishing  touches  to  her  toilet 
before  the  glass.  It  was  a  lovely  face  that  glass  re- 
flected ;  the  cheeks  yet  flushed  from  sleep,  her  ))riglit 
dark  eyes  so  starry  and  lustrous,  and  tho  profusion  of 
glittering  jetty  ringlets  falling   freshly  combed,   in  a 


Sm^^mai^d 


1 


. 


1 


IHE    PENSI0NNAIRN8    PETE. 


181 


shining  shower  over  her  shouklers.  Ilazel  showed  her 
apprcciiition  of  the  picture  by  [mother  prodigious  yawn, 
and  a  hizy  roll  over  in  bed. 

"How  doth  tlie  little  busy  bee  improve  each  shin- 
ing—  I  say,  Eve  !  what  set  you  up  at  such  an  un- 
christian hour  ?" 

"  It  is  not  an  unchristian  hour.  It  is  half-past  five 
o'clock." 

**  And  what  do  you  call  that,  I  should  like  to  know  ? 
0  yaw-w-w  !    I  feel  as  if  I  could  sleep  a  week  !"' 

"If  people  go  to  bed  at  proper  hours,"  said  the  pretty 
wiseacre  before  the  glass,  "  they  will  be  able  to  rise  at 
proper  hours,  and  not  want  to  be  stewing  in  a  hot  bed 
such  a  lovely  morning  as  this  !*' 

This  hint  was  ])retty  liroad,  but  Miss  Wood  never 
took  hints.  She  tumbled  lazily  off  her  couch,  and  be- 
gan slowly  and  with  many  yawns  to  dress. 

"Wliat  noise  the  birds  are  making!"  she  said,  with 
a  dissatisfied  air.     "  Is  the  day  fine,  Eve  ?" 

Eve  opened  her  black  eyes  at  this  question,  the  little 
room  being  fairly  flooded  with  sunlight. 

*'  No,  a  tempest  is  raging— don't  you  see  it  ?  Are 
you  sure  you  arc  quite  awake,  Miss  Wood  ?" 

*' Not  so  very,"  said  Hazel,  rubbing  her  eyes,  "but 


I 


182 


THE    PENSIONNAIUES    FETE. 


J 


I'm  very  glad  it's  fine.    Wo  arc  going  to  have  the  jolliest 
time  to-day,  Eve  !" 

"Jolliest!  That's  a  nice  v^'ord  from  a  young  lady's 
lips." 

*'  Oh,  bother  !  I'd  be  sorry  to  be  a  young  lady  !  I 
tell  you  we  are  in  for  heaps  of  fun  before  night !" 

"Arc  we?"  said  Eve,  sitting  down  by  tlie  window, 
whore  Uazel  had  sat  last  night,  and  taking  \v^  her  Gcr- 
man  grammar,  "how  is  that  ?" 

"It's  half-holiday,  you  know,  any  way,"  said  Hazel, 
vividly  interested  at  once  in  her  subject,  "  and  what's 
more,  il's  Kate  '^rlia tier's  birthday,  and  her  mamma  is 
going  to  give  a  g.and  fClo  cliampClrc  this  afternoon,  in 
their  grounds,  and  all  the  girls  Kate  likes  arc  to  be  in- 
vited." 

"Indeed  ?    Kate  said  nothing  about  it  yesterday." 

"  For  a  very  good  reason — she  knew  nothing  about 
it,  and  does  not  yet.  It  was  that  brought  Sladame  Schaf- 
fer  here  last  evening,  and  Madame  Moreati  gave  permis- 
sion, of  course — catch  her  refusing  the  rich  Schuffers 
anything — and  Kate  is  to  be  told  this  afternoon  !" 

Eve  fixed  her  powerful  dark  eyes  on  Hazel's  radiant 
face. 

"  And  how  did  you  find  it  out,  may  I  ask  ?" 


f 


iWiiniLiii 


THE    PEXSIOXXAIRES'    FETE. 


183 


"Oil!"  exclaimed  Ilazcl,  pottislily,  but  -^^'itli  the 
guilty  scarlet  mounting  to  her  face,  "that's  my  secret ! 
Perhaps  I  dreamt  it,  or  perhaps  a  little  bird  told  me, 
or—" 

"  Or  more  likely  Mr.  Paul  Schaffer  told  you  last 
night." 

Hazel  suddoiily  dropped  the  hairbrush  she  was  using 
and  stood  confuimdcd. 
"Eve!" 

*'  Oh,  I  know  all  aljout  it,  my  dear  !  IIow  the  note 
yesterday  made  the  appointment ;  how  you  sat  up  last 
night  at  tliis  window  watching  until  you  saw  him  enter 
the  grounds  ;  how  he  supplied  you  with  a  ri>pe-laddcr  ; 
and  how  you  had  an  interview  with  liim,  aiul  got  back 
here  about  midnight  !  Don't  trou])le  yourself  to  tell 
fibs.     I  was  not  asleep,  though  you  tliought  so  !" 

"And  you  stayed  awake  to  play  the  spy  upon  me  1 
Eve  ITazclwood — " 

"  You  know  better  tlian  (liat !  I  was  asleep  when 
you  lofc  the  room  ;  but  f  awoke,  niii'sod  you,  found  the 
window  open,  and  made  use  of  my  eyes — that  is  all. 
What  am  T  to  think  of  such  conduct.  Cousin  Uazel  ?" 

"What  you  please,  Cousin  Eve  !" 

"  Arc  you  not  ashamed  ?  " 


184 


TUB    PEXSTONyATREa'    FETE 


"Not  the  loiist!" 

One  of  Eve's  feet  was  beating  an  excited  tattoo  on 
the  painted  floor,  and  lier  eheeks  were  like  rosy  flame. 

"Hazel,  are  you  engaged  to  this  man  ?" 

"Now,  now,  Grandmother  Grunty,  I  won't  liave  any 
of  your  lecturing.  Engaged  !  fiddlesticks  !  Can't  one 
enjoy  a  schoolgirl  flirtation  without  being  so  dowdyisli 
as  to  got  engaged  !  Your'e  the  greatest  goose,  Evo 
Hazelwood,  that  ever  wore  crinoline  !" 

Eve  opened  her  grammar  silently ;  her  lips  com- 
pressed, her  cheeks  more  deeply  flushed. 

"And  now  you're  cross,"  broke  out  Miss  Wood,  resent- 
fully, who  liked  her  cousin  to  be  in  a  talking  mode,  even 
when  she  talked  to  chide.  "Now,  will  ;you  tell  me 
whore's  the  very  great  crime  in  what  I've  done?  All 
schoolgirls  flirt,  and  why  shouldn't  I  ?" 

"Schoolgirls  have  no  business  to  flirt,  then;  least 
of  all,  with  such  men  as  this  Paul  Scliaft'cr." 

"  This  Paul  Schaffer  !"  still  more  resentfully.  "Don't 
you  say  anything  against  him,  Miss  Hazelwood,  if  you 
want  to  be  friends  with  me.  You  don't  know  him,  and 
Eo  have  no  right  to  speak  !" 

"  It  is  because  I  am  your  friend  that  I  do  speak.  As 
for  knowing,  it  is  true  I  never  saw  him  j  but  from  what 


TIIH:    PRySTONNAIIiES'     FETE. 


185 


you  and  his  cousin  say  of  him,  I  jnago  ho  is  nothing  but 
a  vain,  conceited  coxcomb." 

'*  Notliing  of  the  sort.  lie  may  bo  a  little  vain,  I 
allow,  but  then  he  is  as  handsome  as  an  angel.  If  you 
wore  good-looking  yourself,  you  would  be  conceited,  too, 
I  dare  say  !" 

Eve  smiled  a  little.  She  knew  perfectly  well  she 
was  more  than  good-looking,  but  the  small  sin  of  vanity 
was  not  hers. 

"Hazel,  take  care!  You  may  bo  sorry  some  day. 
If  I  were  you  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  Paul 
Schaffor." 

"Of  course,  you  wouldn't,"  said  Hazel  with  a  sneer, 
and  lirnshing  her  brown  hair  furiously.  "  Nothing  less 
than  a  king  on  his  ihrone,  or  a  hero  of  a  novel,  would 
suit  La  Princesse.  They  say  the  Prince  of  Wales  will 
visit  Canada  this  summer  ;  perhaps  you  might  conde- 
scend to  marry  him." 

Eve  smiled  again,  and  lifted  her  beautiful  head  with 
a  gesture  graceful  and  proud. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  ma  cMrc;  certainly  I 
would  not  if  I  had  no  other  reason  than  his  ])eing  Prince 
of  Wales.  Pjcsidcs,"  with  a  laugh,  "Paul  Schalfer  is 
a    German.      Would    you    marry   a    sourkrout-eating, 


180 


TUB    PENSTOyyATRBS'    FETE. 


lagor-biev  drinking,  mecrscliaum-pipc-smoking  Dutch- 
man ?" 

"Queen  Victoria  marrioii  ono.  1  don't  pretend  to 
be  above  my  betters." 

"Well,  please  yourself,"  said  Eve,  rising  at  the 
sound  of  a  bell  ringing  a  rousing  reveille  to  the  noisy 
pupils,  "and  then  yon  won't  die  ii\  a  pet.  Make  husto 
down  stairs,  or  yon  will  be  marked  '  late,'  as  usual !" 

Hazel  had  no  need  to  warn  Eve  not  to  teli ;  she 
knew  her  too  well  for  that.  She  did  hurry  down  stairs, 
and  met  the  other  pcnsionnaii-es  tearing  like  comets 
through  the  corridors  and  down  stairs  to  morning 
prayers,  jerking  aprons  and  collars  straight  as  they 
went.  There  was  no  time  for  further  talk  ;  for  after 
prayers  came  study ;  after  that,  breakfast ;  and  the 
morning  i)lay-hour,  which  followed,  was  lost  to  Hazel, 
who,  to  her  intense  annoyance,  was  called  off  to  practice 
her  last  music-lesson. 

Tliursday  being  a  half-Iioliday,  the  girls  dined  at 
twelve — an  hour  earlier  than  usual ;  and  just  as  the 
demi-pcnsionnaires  were  tying  on  their  hats  to  go  homo. 
Madam  Moreau,  a  bland  and  debonnaire  Frenchwoman, 
sailed  into  the  classroom  with  a  mighty  rustling  of  silk 
flounces,  and  smiling  announced  the  delightful  fact  of 


THE    PENSIONNAIRES'    FETE. 


187 


tho  Sch after /c^e,  and  that  all  tho  young  ladies  invited 
by  Mademoiselle  Soluifler  were  at  liberty  to  go. 

"I  want  all  the  girls  in  our  division  to  go,"  said 
Kate,  who,  used  to  petting,  and  all  sorts  of  pleasant 
surprises  from  her  doting  mamma,  took  tho  announco- 
ment  very  coolly,  "and,  in  fact,  the  whole  ecliool, 
madame,  if  you'll  let  them  como." 

Madame  graciously  gave  permission,  and  swept  out 
again  ;  and  her  departure  was  the  signal  for  an  uproar 
that  would  have  sliamcd  Babel.  Kate  Schaffer  was 
seized  by  dozens  of  hands,  and  seemed  in  imminent 
danger  of  being  kissed  to  death. 

"  There,  there,  girls  !  don't  smother  me  !"  she  impa- 
tiently cried,  breaking  free.  "You  day-scholars  got 
home,  can't  you,  or  you'll  never  be  in  time,  and  the  rest 
of  you  let  me  alone  !  Eve  Ilazelwood,  where  are  you  ? 
I  want  yon." 

"What  for?  to  kiss  you  ?"    Eve  asked,  laughing. 

]vatc  made  a  grimace. 

"No,  thank  you.  I  liave  had  enough  of  that.  If 
there  is  one  thing  in  this  world  more  sickening  than 
another,  it  is  schoolgirl  kisses.  It  is  worse  than  pepiier- 
mint  candy,  and  that  is  fit  for  neither  gods  nor  men. 
What  are  you  going  to  wear  ?" 


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188 


THE    PENSIONNAIRES'     FETE. 


"  White,  I  suppose.     I  liave  nothing  else." 

*'  Antl  you  know  it  becomes  j-ou.  I  say,  Eve,  Pro- 
fessor D'Arvillo  is  to  be  there,  and  you  mustn't  cut  me 
out." 

"  Bah  !     Is  he  so  handsome,  then  ?" 

"  Like  an  angel.     All  tlie  girls  are  wild  about  him." 

"Oil,  I  know  that.  He  has  been  the  burden  of  all 
their  songs  ever  since  my  return.  Are  there  to  be  many 
gentlemen  ?" 

"  Half  a  dozen  only.  I  know  all  about  it,  thought 
mamma  thinks  1  am  in  a  delightful  state  of  ignorance. 
"Monsieur  D'Arvillo,"  said  Kate,  reckoning  on  her  fin- 
gers, "he's  one;  Paul  Schaffer  is  two;  brother  Louis, 
three :  and — " 

"And  there's  the  dinner-bell,  that's  four.  Come 
along  !"  cried  Hazel  Wood,  rushing  past. 

Immediately  after  dinner,  the  young  ladies  flocked 
up  to  their  rooms  to  dress,  and  in  half  an  hour  reap- 
peared, en  grandc  tcnue — which,  in  English,  means  in 
white  muslin  dresses,  streaming  blue  and  rose  ribbons, 
and  straw  flats.  Fairest,  where  all  Avere  more  or  less  fair, 
Eve  Hazelwood  stood  in  their  midst ;  her  thin,  sunny 
white  dress  floating  about  her,  the  rosy  ribbons  less  bright 
than  the  roses  on  her  cheeks,  and  all  her  beautiful  curls, 


THE    PENSIONNAlREr    FETE. 


180 


I 


vailing  the  plump   white   shoulders,   plainly  traceable 
under  the  gauze. 

Two  carriages  were  at  the  door  waiting ;  and  in  a 
high  state  of  bustle,  delight,  and   excitement,  that  we 
never  fool — moro's  the  pil y  ! — after  our  bread-and-but- 
ter days,  the  pciisionnnires  fluttered  in,  and  took  their 
seats.     As  they  drove  along  the  dirty  highroad,   every 
cottage  gate,  door  and  window  were  lined  with  admir- 
ing faces,   for  the   pretty   schoolgirls   were   the   pride 
and  delight  of  St.  Croix  ;  and  there  were  bowing  and 
smiling,  and  throwing  of  kisses,  and  waving  of  hand- 
kerchiefs,   until   they  reached   the  outer  gate  of   the 
Schallor  rpansion.     Over  the  gate  there  was    an  arch 
of  evergreens,  with  the   word   "  Welcome,"  in  letters 
made  of  red  and  white  roses  ;  and  here  the  carriages 
stopped,   and   their  fair    inmates   aliglited.      A   troop 
of    the   village-children,    witli   baskets  on   thir    arms, 
went  before  thera,  scattering  flowers,  and  singing  the 
song  80  popular  among  the    habitans,  "  Vive  la  Cana- 
diennc." 

**0  Kate,"  Eve  Hazelwood  cried,  as  they  walked  up 
the  broad  avenue  toTcthcr,  "how  charming  such  a 
birthday-welcome  is,  and  what  it  is  to  have  a  mother's 
love  1    I  almost  wish  I  were  a  Canadienne  to-day  1" 


\ 


100 


TUE    PENSI0NNAIRE8'    FETE. 


"I  wouldn't  be  anything  else  for  the  world  1  Look  1 
there's  mamma  and  a  whole  crowd  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men over — " 

Kate's  words  were  drowned  in  a  storm  of  music. 
A  band,  under  a  grove  of  tamaracs,  struck  up  the 
national  anthem  of  Lower  Canada,  "A  la  Claire  Fon- 
taine T'  Monsieur  and  Madame  Schaffcr,  at  the  head 
of  a  host  of  guests,  came  forward  to  embrace  their 
daughter,  and  welcome  hor  friends. 

"And  whore  is  my  pet,  my  beauty,  my  lovely 
American  rose  ?"  madamo  cried,  with  very  French  offu- 
sion.     "Where  is  my  oeautiful  evening-star  !" 

"  Gracious,  mamma !  don't  be  so  hifalutin  1  Eve, 
come  here  ;  mamma  wants  you  !" 

"You  darling  child  !"  madamo  exclaimed,  kissing 
her  on  both  checks,  "  I  am  enraptured  at  seeing  you 
again.  Let  me  look  at  you — they  told  me  you  were 
sick,  but  you  are  blooming  as  a  June  rosebud  !" 

"I  am  better,  madame,"  Eve  said,  with  a  little 
laugh  and  a  vivid  blush.     "  I  am  quite  well  again  !" 

"I  don't  believe  she  was  sick  at  all,  mamma.  It  was 
only  a  ruse,  as  Hazel  Wood  says,  to  get  back  to  her  dear 
New  York.  She  likes  it  ever  so  much  better  than 
MoDtreal" 


M 


\ 


TUE    PENSI0NNATRE3'     FETE. 


191 


"Very  bail  tasto  on  miidcmoisollo's  part,"  said  a 
gontleman  on  whose  arm  Madame  SchalTer  leaned, 
**  noisy,  restless  place  tliat  it  is  !  One  stroll  down  Notre 
Dame  street  is  worth  a  dozen  Broadway  prome- 
nades." 

**  0  Monsieur  D'Arvillc,  this  is  the  first  time  you 
have  seen  your  pupil — your  star  pupil,  also — is  it  not  ? 
How  stupid  of  me  !  Mademoiselle  Hazelwood,  your 
future  preceptor,  Monsieur  D'Arvillc  !" 

Eve  dropped  her  dark  eyelashes  and  bowed  This 
then  was  the  angel  of  Miss  Kate  Schaffer's  dreams — 
Btrikingly  handsome,  certainly,  with  a  dark,  coiorless, 
Creole  face;  dark  dreamy  eyes,  half  closed  and  a  little 
elecpy-looking  in  repose,  but  that  could  open  and  flash 
fire,  too,  when  roused,  as  a  second  glance  would  tell  you; 
a  low,  broad  brow  ;  a  mouth  compressed  and  a  little 
stern  ;  and  hands  and  feet  of  most  lady-like  delicacy  and 
smalincss.  lie  was  not  tall,  rather  under  the  medium 
size,  and  slender  and  boyish  of  form.  His  lack  of  stat- 
ure, his  half-closed  eyes,  aed  regularity  of  features,  gave 
him  a  somewhat  effeminate  appearance  at  first  sight;  but 
Lavater  could  have  read  another  story  in  those  thin 
compressed  lips,  that  arched  and  quivering  nostril,  and 
the  flash  that  now  and  then  leaped  out  from  under  his 


103 


THE    PEysroyiTATRES'     FETE. 


long  eyelashes.     lie  spoke  with  a  slight  accent,  but  in 
excellent  English. 

"Monsieur  is  a  Canadian,  and  at  liberty  to  like  Xolre 
Dame  street :  I,  an  American  girl,  wish  leave  to  adore 
Broadway.     Tiioro  is  no  ])lace  like  it  under  tlio  sun  !" 

"  Bravo,  Eve  !  you  always  were  a  brick,  and  ready  to 
fight  for  the  land  of  Washington  !  How  do  you  find 
yourself  all  these  ages  ?     Pretty  jolly,  I  hope  !" 

Eve  knew  that  free  and  easy  voice,  and  was  used  to  it ; 
but  with  the  dark  eyes  of  Professor  D'Arville  looking 
on,  it  discomfited  her  for  the  lirst  time.  She  turned 
round  good-naturodly,  though,  to  return  Louis  Schaf- 
fer's  greeting,  and  gave  the  tall  boisterous  hobbledehoy 
to  understand  she  was  as  jolly  as  could  be  expected. 

"  You  look  like  it  !  not  much  like  a  sick  case,  eh  ? 
Where's  Hazel  ?  She's  the  stunningest  girl  in  the 
pensionnat  /" 

"There  she  is  with  Cousin  Paul,"  said  Kate  ;  "but 
don't  you  go  bothering !    She  don't  want  you,  I  can  tell 


you 


v> 


"All  right,  then!"  said  easy  Louis,  strutting  off; 
'there's  lots  more  girls,  and  I'm  going  for  a  good  time 
among  them.  ' 

Hazel  did  not  want  him.     Leaning  on  the  arm  of  • 


THE    PENSIONNAIRES'    FETE. 


193 


tall,  fasbionably-drcssed,  good-looking  young  man,  she 
was  cominj^  toward  them,  talking  earnestly. 

"But  she  is  so  pretty,  Paul— so  very,  very  pretty,  I 
am  afraid  you  won't  care  for  me  after  you  see  Eve." 

"My  dear  little  Hazel!  don't  be  a  goose!  I  bave 
lieard  so  much  of  this  fair  cousin  of  yours,  that  I  feel 
naturally  curious  to  see  her— that  is  all.  I  sba'u't  like 
her,  I  know — I  never  did  fancy  ice-cream." 

"  And  Eve  is  a  prude — cold,  and  sensible  as  a  female' 
Solomon  I  You  should  have  heard  her  lecture  me  for 
meeting  you  last  night  1" 

"  Did  she  ?  Give  her  my  compliments  the  next  time 
she  presumes  to  lecture,  and  inform  her  the  eleventh 
commandment  is,  'Mind  your  own  business  !'" 

"  0  Paul !  and  you  arc  sure,  quite  sure,  you  won't 
like  her  better  than  me  ?  Sbe  is  so  pretty,  and  you  ad- 
mire beauty  so  much  1" 

"  Bah  !  '  The  girl  that  all  are  praising  is  not  the 
girl  for  me.'  I  have  seen  the  Venus  Celestis  in  marble 
and  oil-colors,  hundreds  of  times,  and  I  never  fell  in 
love  with  it  yet.  I  tell  you  I  don't  like  nonncttcs,  and 
icebergs  in  white  muslin.  You,  my  little  wild  rose,  suit 
me  exactly ;  and  we  will  leave  the  cold  white  lily  to — to 
Professor  D'Arvilie." 


194 


THE    rENSrONNAlRES'     FETE. 


"And  there  slic  is  talking  to  Professor  D'Arvillo, 
now  1  Oil,  I  am  so  glad,  Paul,  that  you  will  not  like 
her  better  than  you  do  mo  1  Come  along,  and  you  shall 
have  an  introduction." 

Paul  Schiiffcr  had  heard  enough  of  Eve  Hazel  wood 
to  be  prepared  to  see  an  extremely  pretty  girl,  but 
hardly  the  beautiful  face  tliat  turned  to  him  as  Hazel 
went  througli  the  formula  of  introduction.  Hazel's 
eye.T  were  ui)on  him,  so  he  betrayed  neither  sur])ri!5e  nor 
admiration,  but  both  were  in  his  heart.  Hazel's  more 
girlish  good  looks  lost  lamentably  by  contrast  with  the 
bright  brunette  beauty  of  lier  queenly  cousin. 

Louis  Schaflfer  came  bustling  up,  noisy  and  excited, 
interrupting  his  cousin  Paul's  bland  commonplaces. 

"I  say,  Eve!  they're  getting  up  the  Lancers;  and 
you're  the  only  girl  of  the  lot  that  knows  how  to  danco 
them  decently,  so  you  must  be  my  partner.  Come 
along !" 

"But,  Louis—" 

"  Come  along,  and  don't  bother  1"  was  Master 
Louis's  polite  rejoinder.  "You  can  finish  your 'two- 
handed  crack,'  as  the  Scotch  call  it,  with  Professor 
D'Arvillo  when  the  set's  over.     Come  !" 

There  was  no  resisting  Louis,  who  was  a  human 


■ 


II 


TUB    PENSNIONAIRES'    FETE. 


198 


whirlwind  in  his  Avay,  and  pulled  Eve's  arm  through 
his  without  ceremony. 

Professor  D'Arvillc,  who  never  was  guilty  of  any- 
thing so  undignified  us  dancing,  lifted  his  hat  in  adieu, 
and  turned  away. 

"I  say,  Paul,"  cried  Louis,  "we  want  a  vis-a-vis. 
Can't  you  and  lli;^cl— liow  d'ye  do.  Hazel  ?— can't  you 
two  come  ?' 

"  Delighted  of  all  things  !  Arc  you  fond  of  dancing. 
Miss  Ilazelwoud  ?'' 

Eve,  by  no  means  pleased  at  Louis'  rude  conduct, 
replied  coldly  and  briefly,  and  took  her  place  without 
speaking  to  her  partner. 

Very  little  her  silence  troubled  Master  Louis  Schaf- 
fer,  who  weni  through  the  quadrille,  as  he  did  every- 
thing  else,  with  all  the  energy  of  his  body  and 
mind. 

Paul  Schaffer's  languid  grace  of  motion  was  a 
striking  contrast,  but  she  at  whom  all  his  poetry 
of  motion  was  aimed  paid  very  little  attention  to  him  or 
it,  and  was  heartily  glad  when  the  sot'  was  over,  and  she 
was  rid  of  Louis. 

As  she  stood  leaning  against  a  tree,  a  few  minutes 
listening  to  the  music,  Kate  SchafiEer  and  Hazel  came 


106 


THE    PENSIONNAIRES'    FETE. 


I'  i 
i 


strutting  up,  their  arms  entwined,  schoolgirl  fashion, 
round  each  other's  waists. 

**  Oh,  here  she  is,  like  Patience  on  a  monument, 
or  anything  else  that's  stupid  or  dowdyish  1"  burst 
forth  Hazel  ;  "and  Kate  and  I  have  been  hunting  for 
you  all  over.  Who  are  you  thinking  of  ? — Professor 
D'Arville  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Eve,  composedly;  "of  him,  and  of 
something  else." 

"  How  do  you  like  him,  Eve  I"  asked  Kate. 

"  I  have  had  no  time  to  like  or  dislike  him,  yet." 

"  But  don't  you  think  him  splendid  ?" 

"  Perfectly  mag.  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  ?"  put  in 
Hazel,  "  mag."  being  short  for  magnificent. 

"I  think  him  handsome — yes." 

**0h,  do  you  ?''  sneered  Kate.  "It's  a  wonder  La 
Princesse  condescends  to  think  oven  that.  You  made 
another  acquaintance,  didn't  you  ?  How  do  you  like 
Paul  ?" 

"I  scarcely  saw  him.  Louis  carried  me  off  like  a 
tornado  that  he  is.  But  I  was  just  thinking,  as  you  two 
came  up,  what  I  always  think  when  I  make  a  new  ac- 
quaintance, whether  or  not  they  will  have  any  influence 
over  my  future  life." 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


197 


**  Quien  sabc?"  laughed  Kate.  "What  an  old  phil- 
osopher it  is." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Hazel,  with  a  small  sneer,  "she 
thinks  they  will  both  fall  in  love  with  her,  or  have  done 
BO,  at  first  sight !" 

"Bah  1  Can  you  never  talk  of  anything  but  falling 
in  love  ?  Come,  I  have  done  thinking,  and  am  quite  at 
your  service,  mesdemoiselles." 

The  three  went  away  together  ;  but  could  they  have 
Been  the  future,  or  had  Hazel  Wood  known  she  had 
uttered  a  prophecy,  they  would  hardly  have  gone  with 
sucli  light  hearts  to  join  in  iha  pens ionnaires'  file. 

Bo  happy  to-day.  Eve,  rejoice  while  you  may,  for 
your  happy  girlhood  is  flying  from  you  even  at  this 
hour  I 


CHAPTER  Xni. 


THE   END  OF  THE   FETE. 


\ 


ROFESSOR    CLAUDE    D'ARVILLE   stood 
leaning  against  the  trunk  of  a  giant  pine, 
whoso  long  arms  cast  giant  shadows  on  the 
sunny  sward,  watching  with  dreamy,  half-closed  eyes 


108 


THR    END    OF    THE    FETE. 


tlio  picture  before  liini.     lie  looked  like  an  artist,  this 
diirk-eyed,  thoiightfiil-hrowed,  cliissiciil-fetitured  young 
Caiiiidiiin,  und  ho  looked  what  he  was — an  artist  heart 
ftud  soul.     It  was  a  study  for  an  artist,  too — the  scene 
on  which  he  gazed — and  in  after-years  that  very  scene, 
immortalized  on  canvas,  and  exhibited  at  the  Academy 
of  Art,  in  London,  was  one  of  the  first  of  his  paintings 
to  win  him  fame.     The  cloudless  summer-sky  over  his 
head,  fleeced  with  billows  of  downy  white,  and  away  in 
the  west,  where  the  sun  was  sinking,  an  oriflammo  of 
purple,  gold,  and  crimson,   the  whole  western   horizon 
radiant  with  rosy  light.     The  jjines,  the  tamaracs,  and 
maples  reared  their  tall  heads  agaiiist  it;  its  vivid  glory 
of  coloring  glittering  on  their  green   leaves  as  their 
branches  rustkd   softly  in  the  light  breeze,  and  cast 
long  cool  shadows  on  the  grass.     The  twittering  of  the 
not  very  sweet-voiced  but  gaudy-colored  Canadian  birds, 
the  plashing  of  a  fountain  near,  the  crisp  chirping  of 
ViiQ  grasshojipers  at  his  feet,  made  an  undercurrent  of 
melody  of  their  own,  audible  even  above  the  crashing  of 
the  brass-band  and  the  shouting  and  vociferous  talking 
and  laughing  of  the  emancipated  schoolgirls.    The  pine- 
tree  beside  which  he  stood  was  an  eminence  commanding 
a  view  cf  the  whole  grounds,  with  its  glens  and  walks, 


" 


.. 


THK    ESD     OF    THE    FRTK. 


190 


and  sumuior-liouscs,  ami  cascades,  and  parterres,  and 
broad  lawns,  and  8lo])ing  glades 

"Up  and  down  these  shaded  wOk;:  the  white  muslin 
skirts  and  blue  ribbons  of  i\\o  prnsionnuircs  flutLercd  be- 
side the  black  dress-coats  of  Louis  Scliaffer's  fellow- 
students  from  one  of  the  Montreal  colleges.  Kate  Schaf- 
fer  had  said  there  would  be  half  a  dozen  gentlemen  at 
the  fttc  ;  had  she  said  two  dozen,  she  would  have  been 
nearer  the  mark  ;  but,  not  being  a  i)roi)hete.ss,  how  was 
she  to  tell  her  irrepressible  brother  intended  inviting 
half  his  cassmates  ? 

On  the  lawn,  some  were  daiuing;  among  the  trees, 
some  were  swinging  ;  groui)s  were  seated  together  on 
the  grass,  having  sociable  chats  ;  white  muslin  and  black 
coats  turning  and  twisting  everywhere  ;  and  the  band 
under  the  tamaraes  still  phiying  "  Vive  la  Canadienne !" 

Professor  D'ArvilJe  saw  all  this,  and  something  else, 
too.  Three  of  those  white-muslin  angels  were  coming 
toward  him  One  a  plump  little  damsel,  with  cheeks 
like  scarlet  rose-berries,  brown  eyes,  brown  braids,  and 
azure  ribbons ;  one,  a  gipsy-faced,  dashing  young  brun- 
ette, a  daughter  of  the  land,  and  the  queen  of  the  fefej 
and  the  third,  who  walked  in  the  center,  swinging  her 
straw-hat  by  its  rosy  ribbons,  her  black  curls  entwined 


aoa 


TUE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


with     crimson     geranium-blossoms     and      deep-green 
leaves. 

Ah,  Professor  D'Arville!  artist  and  bcauty-worsliiper, 
is  there  anything  in  all  you  see  before  you  as  fair  as  she  ? 
No  Canadian,  tliough  her  eyes  are  like  black  stars,  and 
those  glossy  ringlets  of  jetty  darkness,  that  delicate 
complexion  and  bright  bloom  of  color  belong  to  another 
land.  Lopk  as  long  as  you  please  on  the  beauty  of  sky 
and  earth,  or  tree  and  flowers,  it  is  not  half  so  danger- 
ous as  one  glance  at  that  noble  and  lovely  head. 

**  Vive  la  Canadienne  !  et  see  beaux  yeux, 
Et  SOS  beaux  yeux  tous  doux, 
Et  ses  beaux  yeux," 


+ 


^r 


hummed  a  voice  behind  him ;  and  turning  liis  lazy  glance 
Monsieur  D'Arville  saw  Paul  Schaffer  lounging  up,  look- 
at  the  three  girls,  too. 

He  touched  his  hat,  with  a  meaning  smile,  to  the 
young  artist. 

**  I  need  no.  ask  if  monsieur  is  enjoying  himself.  I 
see  that  he  is." 

"Yes,  monsieur;  solitude  is  enjoyment  some- 
times." 

**  Pardon,  that  I  have  broken  it ;  but  it  was  likely  to 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


201 


i 


be  broken  anyway,  in  a  pleasanter  manner,  perhaps. 
See  !  The  three  belles  of  the/e/e  are  coming  towards 
you," 

*'  They  are  going  to  the  house,  I  presume  ;  for  they 
have  not  even  seen  me  yet." 

"  Monsieur's  modesty  !  He  does  not  need  to  be  told 
he  is  a  favorite  with  the  ladies  I" 

Professor  D'Arville  fixed  his  eyes  in  a  steady  stare  on 
Mr.  Schafler's  facc>  in  a  way  that  would  have  discom- 
posed any  other  man,  but  did  not  in  the  least  disturb  the 
bland  equanimity  of  the  young  gentleman  before  him. 

"  A  deuced  pretty  girl,  that  Miss  Eve  Hazelwood  ! 
Don't  you  think  so,  monsieur  ?  One  of  your  pupils,  too, 
no  doubt.     What  an  enviable  fate  is  yours  !" 

The  brow  of  the  young  professor  contracted  slightly  : 
but  his  only  answer  was  sileuv-e,  cold  and  haughty. 

"  The  call  her  La  Princcssc  in  the  school,"  went  on 
easy  Mr.  Schaffcr,  *'  and,  by  Jove,  she  looks  it !  Talk 
about  the  beaux  ycux  of  our  Canadian  girls  !  I  never 
saw  such  a  pair  of  eyes  in  my  life  as  mademoiselle  has  !" 

"  Is  monsieur  in  love  ?"  Professor  D'Arville  asked, 
with  a  slight  smile  and  French  shrug. 

"  I  would  be,  if  I  dared  ;  but  one  might  as  well  fall 
in  love  with  the  moon,  if  all  I  have  heard  of  her  be  true. 
9* 


202 


THE    END     OF    TEE    FETE. 


I  like  flesli  and  blood,  not  statues.    One  live  woman  is 
worth  a  thousand  marble  ones." 

Professor  D'Arville  made  a  gesture  toward  Hazel, 
who  was  laughiug  at  something  until  her  cheeks  were 
crimson. 

"  If  monsieur  likes  flesh  and  blood,  he  has  it  there. 
The  future  Madame  SchafEer — is  it  not  ?" 

"Will  you  have  a  cigar,  monsieur?"  was  Paul 
SchafEer's  answer.  "No?  Then,  with  your  permis- 
sion, I  will." 

"  Why,  here's  Paul  ! "  called  out  Kate,  catching 
sight  of  the  two  gentlemen.  "  I  say,  Paul,  Louis  told 
me  to  tell  you — " 

What  Louis  had  told  her  to  tell,  Mr.  Paul  Schaffer 
was  not  destined  to  hear ;  for,  just  then,  there  was 
a  tremendous  shout,  and  Louis  himself  came  bursting 
through  the  trees,  his  hair  flying,  his  face  flushed — 
altogether,  in  a  state  of  frenzied  excitement. 

"  This  way — this  way,  all  of  you  !  Here's  a  lot 
more  of  the  crowd,  and  we'll  all  have  our  fortunes  told 
together." 

"MonDieu!  has  that  madhcad  gone  crazy?"  was 
Kate's  cry,  while  the  rest  stared. 

"  Gone  crazy  ?     Catch  me  at  it  1     Here,  you  old 


? 


CI 


Tim    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


I 


(' 


Meg  Merrilic'S,  or  whatever  they  call  you,  come  this 
way  !    Ilere's  another  batch  that  want  you  to  spao  their 

fortunes." 

Half  a  dozen  girls  and  as  many  young  men,  with  a 
vast  deal  of  noise  and  tumult,  and  in  their  midst  an  out- 
landish-looking figure.  Ic  was  an  old  woman,  bent,  and 
leaning  on  a  stick;  her  brown  shriveled  face  and  f mall 
bright  eyes  peering  from  beneath  a  huge  bonnet ;  a  dingy 
blue  cloak  wrapped  about  her,  and  beneath  it  a  scant  red 
dress  hardly  reaching  to  her  ankle.  A  more  uncouth 
or  witchlike  figure  no  one  there  had  ever  seen ;  and 
Louis,  catching  her  by  the  arm,  drew  her  forward,  and 
presented  her  with  a  flourishing  bow. 

"One  of  Macbeth's  witches,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
come  from  Hades  by  the  last  express-train,  to  tell  your 
fortunes !  She  has  told  all  of  ours,  and  made  fifteen 
shillings  by  the  performance  ;  and  now,  if  you  have  any 
spare  change  about  you,  she  is  willing  to  lift  the  vail  of 
future  for  you.  Eve,  hold  out  your  hand,  and  let 
us  hear  what  the  future  has  in  store  for  you  besides  a 

coffin  !" 

*'No  !"  said  Eve,  shrinking  back.     "  Let  Kate  and 
Hazel  try,  if  they  wish  ;  I  had  rather  not." 

The  old  woman,  whose  eyes  had  been  darting  from 


204 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


ono  face  to  another,  turned  tlicra,  at  the  sound  of  her 
voice,  on  Eve,  and,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  broke 
out  into  a  shrill  and  irrepressible  cry.  It  was  not  a  cry 
of  astonishment ;  it  was  more  like  triumph,  repressed 
almost  instantly  ;  but  her  eyes  gleamed  with  a  strange 
fire,  and  the  dirty,  skinny  hand  she  held  out  trembled 
with  eagerness. 

"Yes,  yes,  yes,  my  pretty  lady!"  she  exclaimed, 
chrilly;  "let  me  tell  your  fortune!  Don't  be  afraid, 
my  dearie  ;  the  future  can  have  nothing  but  good  in  it 
for  one  so  beautiful  as  you." 

Her  first  cry  had  been  repressed  so  quickly  that  it  had 
passed  almost  unnoticed,  save  by  one,  who  bent  his 
brows  and  watched  the  beldame  keenly. 

Eve  shrank  further  away. 

"No;  don't  trouble  yourself  about  my  future.  I 
dare  say,  I  will  know  it  soon  enough." 

"Oh,  botheration  !"  broke  out  Louis,  "don't be  such 
a  guy.  Eve  !  Let  the  old  girl  tell  your  fortune.  Sho 
does  it  strong,  I  tell  you  !" 

"No,"  said  Eve,  resolutely  turning  away.  "I  shall 
not  tempt  the  future,  even  in  jest.  Besides" — half 
laughing — "  I  have  no  money,  and  the  oracle  is  a  golden 
glutton,  and  will  not  speak  unless  bribed." 


THE    END    OF    THE    FETE. 


aor 


\ 


A  storm  of  wordy  abuse  fell  unheeded  on  Eve's  ear 
as  she  turned  away  ;  and,  lifting  her  eyes,  she  caught 
Professor  D'Arville's  penetrating  glance  fixed  upon  her. 

"So  you  have  no  fuitli  in  destiny  ?" 

"  I  do  not  believe  in  fortune- telling,  if  that  is  what 
you  mean  ;  and  I  believe  it  is  wrong  to  encourage  any 
one  to  make  a  living  by  any  such  means." 

The  Professor  smiled,  and  the  smile  lit  up  his  dark 
Creole  face  with  a  rare  beauty. 

"  Wisdom  from  the  lips  of  sixteen  !  xou  see  I  know 
your  age,  mademoiselle.  I  knew  beforehand  you  had 
considerable  moral  courage,  but  I  did  not  know  it  was 
quite  so  strong." 

"  Monsieur  pays  me  a  compliment,"  Eve  said,  her 
heart  lluttcring  a  little.  "I  assure  you,  I  can  be  obsti- 
nate enough  when  I  please  1  Are  you  going  up  to  the 
house  ?" 

"If  mademoiselle  will  permit  me  to  accompany 
her  ?*' 

Eve  bowed,  and  Prosessor  D'Arvillo  offered  his  arm. 
A  dark  and  sinister  glance  followed  them  ;  and  Louis 
Schaffer  touched  Hazel  on  the  arm,  with  a  slight  and 
contemptuous  laugh. 

**  See  Hazel !    One  would  think  they  had   known 


206 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


li' 


each  other  from  their  cradles.  Pai^l  and  Virginia, 
eh?" 

"They  make  a  very  nice  couple,  I  think.  How  do 
you  like  Eve  ?" 

Mr.  Schaffer  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Oh,  so-so.  A  pretty  girl  with  black  eyes,  but 
nothing  to  set  the  St.  Lawrence  on  fire.  Slie  is  a  sort 
of  second  Minerva,  is  she  not  ?  In  making  her,  they 
forgot  to  add  tha^  trifling  item — a  heart." 

"Nonsense,  Paul !  "  But  Hazel's  face  was  radiant. 
"I  won't  have  you  talk  so  of  my  handsome  Cousin  Eve  ! " 

"My  dear,  I  beg  your  pardon.  You  asked  my 
opinion,  and  you  have  it." 

"  But  every  one  admires  her." 

"And  so  do  I,  immensely — as  I  admire  sculptured 
Dianas  and  Niobcs.  But  as  to  falling  in  love  with  any- 
thing so  celestially  cold — bah  !  " 

"0  Paul !" — and  Hazel's  hands  clasped  his  arm,  and 
Hazel's  beaming  face  was  uplifted  in  ecstacy — "  I  am  so 
glad  !  Do  you  know  I  was  awfully  afraid  you  would 
never  think  of  me  after  you  saw  Eve  ?" 

"  You're  a  little  simpleton.  Hazel.  Do  you  know 
that  ?  And  to  punish  you,  I  have  a  good  mind  not  to 
tell  you  something  that  I  think  would  please  you." 


' 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


807 


' 


I 


"What  is  it,  Paul?" 

"  Come  up  to  the  house  ;  I  don't  want  all  these  gap- 
ing girls  to  hear.  It  is  this  :  the  regiment  are  ordered 
off  somewhere,  and  before  they  go  give  a  grand  ball. 
Will  you  come  ?  " 

"  0  Paul,  I  can't." 

**  0  Hazel,  you  can.  Dress  in  your  room,  descend 
by  the  rope-ladder,  I  will  drive  you  to  the  depot,  the 
cars  will  take  us  to  '""ontreal  ia  an  hour  and  a  half,  and 
you  can  return  by  tl)e  four  o'clock  express  in  the  morn- 
ing. You  will  have  a  night's  pleasure,  and  Madame 
Moreau  nor  any  of  her  dragons  be  the  wiser  !" 

"  But,  Paul—" 

"Vfdl  in'' amour  r 

"  It  wouldn't—"  laughing,  and  blushing  deeply ;  "it 
wouldn't  be  proper  !" 

"  Tut,  tut,  tut,  proper !  Ave  you  not  my  little  wife, 
or  as  good  ?  Get  a  companion  if  you  like ;  ask  La 
Princesse  to  come  with  you  !" 

"  Eve  !"  Hazel  cried,  aghast,  "  why,  Paul,  Eve 
would  as  soon  take  a  pistol  and  blow  her  own  brains 
out  as  do  anything  of  the  kind  !  Eve,  indeed  !  it's  little 
you  know  of  her  to  suggest  such  a  thing  !" 

"Try,   any  way.      If    she    refuses,   Kate  Schaffer 


208 


THE    END    OF    THE    FETE. 


V 

pi 


won't,  and  slie  can  go  with  Louis !    Mai  peste  !    How  I 

hate  priules !" 

After  that,  poor  Hazel  would  as  soon  thought  of 

blowing  her  brains  out  as  refusing,  and  they  had  it  all 

settled  before  they  reached  the  house.     Some  one  was 

singing  as  they  entered  the  long  drawing-room,  half 

filled  with  eager  listeners ;  and  among  these  listeners  a 

white  figure,  with  black  curls  and  pink  ribbons,  in  the 

shadow  of    the    window-curtains,   drinking    in    every 

word — every  note.     The  singer  was  Professor  Claude 

D'Arville,  who  could  sing  and  play  as  well  as  he  could 

paint,  and  the  song  was  "Ellen  Adair."    Paul  SchafEer 

and  Hazel  "Wood  stood  in  the  doorAvay  and  listened  with 

the  rest : 

"Ellen  Adair  she  loved  mo  well, 

Against  her  father  and  mother's  will. 
To-day  I  sat  for  an  hour  and  wept, 
By  Ellen's  grave  on  the  windy  hill, 

**  Shy  she  was,  and  I  thought  her  cold — 

Tiiought  her  proud,  and  fled  o'er  the  sea; 
Filled  was  I  with  folly  and  spite, 
When  Ellen  Adair  was  dying  for  me." 


4 


■  **  There  is  the  Ellen  Adair  he  is  thinking  of,"  whis- 
pered Paul ;  "look  at  the  window  J  but  she  never  will 
die  for  him  or  any  one  else.'* 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


209 


"All !  I  tloii't  know,"  said  Ilazcl,  with  a  sentimental 
loook,  *  the  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  all,'  Moore  says, 
and  she  is  only  morial,  like  the  rest  of  us." 

"Marble,  you  should  say!  There,  he  is  at  the 
second  verse,  and  it  is  not  polite  to  talk,  I  supjwse." 

The  son^j  was  finished  amid  a  buzz  of  applause,  in 
■which  the  white  ligure  at  the  window  did  not  join. 
They  saw  her  shrink  away  into  the  shadow  of  the  cur- 
tains, and  glide  through  the  open  window  out  on  the 
lawn.  The  sinister  eyes  that  never  ceased  watching  her 
saw  the  act,  and  saw  Professor  D'Arville  saunter  away 
in  another  direction. 

The  sunny  afternoon  was  ending  in  a  cloudless 
moonlight  night,  as  Eve  Ilazclwood,  avoiding  tho 
numerous  groups  of  gay  girls  and  young  men,  strolled 
by  herself  down  a  shady  pine  avenue,  toward  the  gate, 
and  leaning  against  it  watched  the  round  red  moon  rise, 
with  her  beauty  in  her  eyes.  Far  off,  one  solemn  star 
shone,  the  precursor  of  the  rising  host.  The  peaceful 
village  lay  beneath  her,  hushed  in  the  holy  silence  of 
eventide  ;  the  convent-bcU  was  ringing  for  vespers,  and 
while  she  stood  listening  to  its  slow,  sweet  music,  two  of 
tho  nuns  passed  her  on  their  way  there. 

One  was  a  sober-looking,  middle-aged  woman ;  the 


210 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


other,  a  young  giil  not  much  older  than  Eve  herself, 
and  with  a  face  almost  as  beautiful  and  fair,  more  gentle 
and  sweet.  Eve  watched  them  out  of  sight,  wondering 
if  the  young  nun  was  happy,  and  very,  very  doubtful  of 
it.  She  need  not  have  been.  Sister  Agnes  was  perfectly 
happy ;  but  the  world  looked  a  very  bright  and 
beautiful  place  to  the  inexperienced  schoolgirl,  and 
somehow,  this  afternoon  it  had  acquired  a  new  charm. 
Had  the  sun  ever  shone  so  brightly  before  ?  llad  she 
ever  spent  such  a  pleasant  afternoon  ?  And  was  there 
ever  so  charming  a  song  as  "  Ellen  Adair  ?"  Ah  !  there 
lay  the  key-note  of  all,  and  half  unconsciously  she  be- 
gan to  sing  : 

"  Love  raay  come  and  love  may  go, 

And  fly  like  a  bird  from  tree  to  tree, 
But  I  will  love  no  more,  no  more, 
Till  Ellen  Adair  comes  back  to  me." 


"  You  liked  my  song,  then  ?"  said  a  quiet  voice  be- 
hind her,  and  Eve  fairly  bounded.  She  had  heard  no 
step  on  the  velvety  sward,  but  Professor  D'Arville  stood 
at  her  elbow. 

"Pardon,  mademoiselle,  I  did  not  mean  to  startle 
you.  Being  tired  of  the  heat  and  noise  of  the  house  I 
strolled  down  here  to  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  evening 


TUE    E^D    OF    THE    FETE. 


211 


alone.     I  see  maacmoisellc  is  an  admirer  of  the  beauties 
of  Nature,  too.     If  I  intrude,  I  will  depart." 

"Oh  no,"  said  Eve,  laying  her  hand  on  her  breast, 
to  still  her  startled  heart-beating  ;    *'  this  place  is  free 

to  all." 

He  leaned  against  the  gate  and  looked  at  her. 

"Soyou  like 'Ellen  Adair'?" 

"  Yes  monsieur,  1  like  every  thing  Tennyson  writes." 

"Yet  it   is  ruljbish,  after  all— sentimental  trash! 

Don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  No,  monsieur  !"  rather  indignantly  ;  "  I  should  bo 
Borry  to  think  so  !    Tennyson  could  not  write  rubbish 

if  he  tried." 

«'  Oh,  I  see  !  You  are  like  all  the  other  romantic 
young  ladies  in  the  world  !  Have  you  read  '  Mariana  in 
the  Moated  Grange' ?" 

"A  hundred   times,  monsieur!     I  know  it  every 

word  off." 

"  What  lucky  follows  these  poets  are  !  Ah,  who 
have  we  here  ?  A  brigand,  or  the  hero  of  a  three-vol- 
ume  novel.     Perhaps  Tennyson  himself." 

Eve's  eyes  were  asking  the  same  question,  though 
her  lips  were  silent.  Up  the  moonlit  road  a  tall  figure 
was  striding-the  figure  of  a  man  in  a  long,  picturesque 


212 


TUE    END     OF    TUB    F/'JTE. 


and  most  foreign-looking  cloak,  a  broad-brimmed  stravr 
hut  pulled  over  his  face,  completely  concealing  it,  and  a 
cigar  between  his  lii)S. 

"  What  a  strange-looking  figure  1"  said  Eve,  woiider- 
ingly.  "Who  can  ho  be,  and  what  can  have  brought 
him  to  St.  Croix  ?" 

**  Questions  I  cannot  take  it  upon  myself  to  answer. 
Why,  he  ia  actually  coming  hero  1" 

The  foreign-looking  stranger  had  caught  sight  of 
the  two  figures  standing  within  the  gate,  and  flinging 
his  cigar  away,  walked  up  to  thorn.  Taking  off  liis  hat 
to  Eve,  he  made  a  courtly  bow  ;  and  in  the  moonlight, 
clear  as  day,  she  saw  a  bronzed  and  mustachcd  face, 
swarthy  as  that  of  a  Paynim,  but  eminently  handsome, 
shaded  by  profuse  coal-black  locks,  and  lit  up  by  lumi- 
nous dark  eyes.  Dark,  handsome,  and  distinguished, 
ho  did,  indeed,  look  like  the  hero  of  a  novel,  or  a 
brigand  in  a  play.  His  years  might  have  been  forty, 
and  there  were  threads  of  silver  gleaming  amid  his 
elf-locks. 

"Pardon!"  ho  said  in  French,  though  not  with  a 
French  accent,  "  for  the  intrusion,  but  I  am  a  stranger 
hero.  Can  you  tell  me  which  of  those  two  buildings  on 
the  hill  yonder  is  Madam  Moreau's  pe?isionnat?'^ 


THE    END     OF     THE    FETE. 


213 


"Tlio  one  furthest  off,  monsioiir,"  replied  Professor 
D'Arville,  "  tho  other  is  the  convent  of  the  Iloly 
Cross." 

**  A  thousand  thanks,  monsieur!    Goodnight." 

Ho  bowed  again  to  Eve,  threw  on  his  sombrero,  and 
walked  leisurely  away,  humming  tho  fag-end  of  a  Spa-  ■ 
nisli  ballad  as  he  went. 

"A  Spaniard,"  said  Monsieur  D'Arville,  "ho  looks 
like  it.  Some  of  madamo's  Cuban  friends,  perhaps  ; 
she  lived  there  before  she  carao  to  St.  Croix.  But  tlie 
night-air  is  chill  and  your  dress  is  thin,  mademoiselle — 
had  I  not  better  lead  you  in  ?" 

**  Eve  !  Eve  !  Eve  !  Ilazehvood  !"  a  chorus  of  voices 
suddenly  called  before  Eve  could  reply,  and  a  wholo 
troop  of  demoiselles  rushed  down  upon  them.  "  Eve  ! 
Eve  !  where  are  you  ?" 

"Here  she  is!"  shouted  Kate  Schaffer.  "I  have 
found  her  !    I  thought  I  would." 

And  her  black  Canadian  eyes,  those  laughing,  ro- 
guish, dark  eyes,  whose  praises  her  countrymen  sing, 
looked  wickedly  from  teacher  to  pupil. 

"Well,"  said  Eve,  with  infinite  composure,   "and 
now  that  I  am  found,  what  do  you  want  with  me  ?" 
**  Only  this,  the  best  of  friends  must  part ;  and  we 


214 


THE    END     OF    THE    FETE. 


are  ordered  liome,  or  rather  back  to  prison.  You  are 
the  only  missing  lamb  of  the  fold  ;  and  detachments 
have  been  sent  oat  in  every  direction  in  search  of 
you." 

"  Oh  yes !"  said  Hazel,  joining  in,  "  we  thought 
somebody  had  run  away  with — out  you  !  Hurry  now, 
or  you'll  get  a  lecture  as  long  as  to-day  and  to-morrow." 

The  carriages  were  at  the  door,  and  i\w  penswnnaircs 
shawled  and  hooded,  being  packed  into  tlicm  by  the  de- 
voted young  collegians.  Louis  Schallcr,  his  cousin  Paul, 
and  Monsieur  D'Arville,  stood  near  one  as  Eve  came 
out  the  last,  and  it  was  Paul  Schaffcr  who  advanced  with 
extended  hand,  while  Louis  was  chatting  volubly  with 
the  girls  already  stowed  within  tlio  vehicle,  and  the  pro- 
fessor stood  at  a  distance,  looking  quietly  on. 

"  We  thought  La  Princcsse  was  lost  ten  minutes  ago, 
and  were  all  in  a  state  of  distraction.  Louis,  get  out  of 
the  way,  will  you,  and  let  me  assist  Mademoiselle  Hazel- 
wood  in." 

*'OfI  she  goes  !"  cried  Louis,  as  Eve,  scarcely  touch- 
ing his  cousin's  hand,  stepped  lightly  in,  "  the  last,  tiio 
brightest,  the  best  !  Good  night,  Eve,  and  pleasant 
dreams — dream  of  mc  !" 

"Adieu,  mademoiselle,"  Paul  Schaffer  said,  lifting 


THE    END     OF     THE    FETE. 


215 


her  hand  to  his  lips  before  the  was  aware,  "I  shall  long 
remember  this  evening  !    Adieu,  and  mi  7'evoir !" 

With  an  imperious  gesture,  the  girl  snatched  her 
hand  away,  lier  cliecks  flushing  scarlet.  Anotlier  gentle- 
man stepped  up  to  the  carriage-door  and  shut  it. 

**  Good  night.  Miss  lliizelwood,"  he  said,  in  English. 
"Good  night,  )'oung  ladies  all." 

"  Bon  noir  !  bon  soir,  monsieur  P  a  chorus  of  voices 
called,  and  then  the  carriage  rattled  away,  and  thofvie 
was  ended. 

The  two  young  men,  left  alone  in  the  moonlight, 
did  not  speak.  Roving  silently,  they  Avent  their  differ- 
ent ways,  Professor  D'Arvillc  into  the  house  to  bid  his 
hostess  farewell,  and  Paul  Schaffcr  walked  at  a  brisk 
pace  toward  the  gate.  Out  in  the  road,  he  walked 
rapidly  toward  the  village,  and  stopped  at  last  before  a 
lonely-looking  little  hut,  at  t!io  outskirts  of  St.  Croix. 
He  paused  a  moment  to  look  at  it,  and  the  one  full  ray 
of  light  streaming  from  its  curtained  window,  and  then 
rapped  gently  at  the  door. 

"  This  should  be  the  place,"  he  muttered  to  himself  ; 
"and  if  the  old  witch  knows  anything  about  the  girl,  I 
shall  And  it  out  befoi'c  I  leave,  or  my  name  is  not  Paul 
Schaffcr." 


216 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

* 

A  TEMPEST  IN"  A  TEAPOT. 

RAINY  afternoon  in  St.  Croix — a  dogged, 
detei'mined  out-and-out  rainy  day,  with  a  sky 
of  lead  above,  and  a  soaking,  steaming  sod- 
den earth  below.  A  dreary  afternoon  in  St.  Croix,  dull 
at  the  best  in  the  brightest  sunshine,  but  doubly  dull  in 
wet  Aveatlicr,  when  you  miglit  walk  in  mud  from  one 
extremity  of  the  village  to  the  other  without  meeting  a 
living  thing,  except,  perhaps,  some  draggled  skulking 
dog,  the  outcast  and  Pariah  of  his  tribe.  A  dismal 
afternoon  in  the  pensioiinat  des  demoiselles ;  its  play- 
ground deserted,  its  day  scholars  gone  home  in  the  great 
covered  carryall,  kept  by  madame  for  such  emergencies, 
and  darkness  anu  dullness  brooding  over  its  empty 
Carres  and  long  corridors.  It  was  the  hour  of  recess, 
too  ;  but  the  gloomy  evening  seemed  to  have  imparted 
some  of  its  gloom  to  Madame  Moreau's  pupils  ;  for  in- 
stead of  making  day  hideous  with  their  uproar,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  they  had  slouched  off  to  tiieir  rooms  and 
gone  to  sleep,  or  in  hidden  corners  were  poring  over 
novels,  or,  gathered  in  groups,  were  gapingly  discussing 


: 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


217 


the  groat  Schaffor  f3te,  not  yet  two  days  old.  The 
babiei  of  the  Fourth  Division,  too  young  in  the  blessed- 
ness of  seven  years  to  know  the  meaning  of  the  -dreadful 
word  ennui,  were  romping  and  screaming  in  their  own 
dominions,  and  their  noise,  and  that  of  two  or  three 
pianos  in  the  music-room,  were  the  only  sounds  that 
broke  the  solitude  of  the  pensiomiat. 

In  one  of  the  deserted  carris,  perched  up  in  the  deep 
window-ledge  at  the  furthest  extremity,  a  pensionnaire 
sat  looking  out  at  tlie  black  and  dismal  prosjject.  She 
was  wrapped  in  a  largo  plaid  shawl  for  the  Avet  day  was 
bleak  and  raw;  a  book,  "La  tour  de  ma  Ghamhre,"  lay 
in  her  lap  ;  but  the  dark,  dreamy  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
lowering  sky,  and  the  rain  plashing  against  the  glasses, 
and  the  luxuriant  black  ringlets  were  pushed  impatiently 
behind  her  ears  and  away  from  the  beautiful  face.  The 
girl  was  thinking,  something  schoolgirls  are  not  greatly 
given  to  do,  and  her  meditations  were  broken  suddenly, 
in  a  not  very  romantic  manner.  A  pair  of  high-heeled 
boots  came  clattering  down  the  staircase  near  her,  and 
a  shrill  falsetto  voice,  singing  at  the  top  of  a  pair  of 

powerful  lungs : 
10 


218 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


"  *0  poor  Robinson  Crusoe  I 

How  could  you  go  for  to  do  so  1 

Iley  diddlc-diddle,  tlie  cat  and  the  fiddle, 
O  poor  Robinson  Crusoe  1 

lie  had  a  ui;ui  Friday, 

To  keep  iiis  bouse  tidy.' 

Hallo  ?  Is  this  where  yoii  are  perched  up  like  some  dis- 
mal old  owl,  or  some  what's-its-namo,  a  pillow-caso  ia 
the  wilderness '" 

This  last  did  not  belong  to  the  canticle  she  was 
chanting,  but  was  addressed  by  the  singer  to  the  pensive 
young  lady  in  the  window,  who  turned  round  leisurely 
at  the  interruption. 

"Is  it  you,  Hazel  ?    What  do  you  want  ?'* 

"  '  lie  built  bim  a  boat, 
Of  the  skin  of  a  goat, 
And  he  christened  it  Robinson  Crusoe.'" 


sang  Hazel  Wood,  skipping  up  adroitly  beside  Eve  ; 
"you  oughl;  to  have  been  ^Mrs.  Robinson  Crusoe.  You 
would  have  made  a  sweet  pair  of  pokes,  you  would. 
What  do  I  want?  TIio  pleasure  of  your  charming  so- 
ciety, my  love.  It's  a  little  better  than  yawning  myself 
to  death  upstairs." 

"  I  thought  you  were  aaloop." 


I 


A     TEMPEST    m    A     TEAPOT. 


2t9 


"Never  was  wider  awiike  in  my  life  I  I  was  read- 
ing !" 

"  Yoii  reading  !    I  like  that." 

"  Ton  my  word  I  It  was  a  novel,  though,  and  one 
of  Eugene  Sue's  at  that !" 

"  0  Hazel !" 

"There!  don't  faint!  It  Avasn't  the  'Mysteries  of 
Paris'— I  never  could  wade  through  tluit.  What's  this  ? 
Oh,  'A  Journey  Eound  my  Cliambcr  !'  I  might  have 
known  it  was  something  stupid  and  lugubrious!  You 
ought  to  go  and  be  a  nun  at  once :  you  tire  half  one 

now  " 

"Miss  Wood,  if  you  only  came  here  to  lecture  me, 
I  beg  you  will  take  your  departure  again  as  quickly  as 
possible.     I  prefer  my  own  thoughts  to  your  abuse." 

"Well  then'  don't  be  cross,  and  I  won't  scold.  I 
have  come  to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

"Yes,  I  might  have  known  that !  Do  your  stock- 
ings want  darning,  or  your  handkerchiefs  hemming,  or 
has  your  pockctmouey  run  short,  or  what  is  the  trouble 

now  .'' 

"Nothing  of  that  kind.  It's  the  greatest  favor 
you   have  ever  rendered  me  in  your  life." 

Eve  opened  her  eyes. 


220 


A     TEMP  ESI    IN   A     TEAPOT. 


"  The  greatest !  What  in  the  world  can  it  be  then  ? 
Let  us  licar  it." 

"  Promise  me  first  that  you  will  grant  it." 
■    *'  Promise  before  I  know  what  it  is  !    No,  I  thank 
yon,  Miss  Wood  !" 

"  But,  0  Eve  !  I  do  want  it  so  badly  !  You  won't 
refuse — there's  a  darling,  will  you  ?"  cried  Ilazel,  put- 
ting her  arms  round  Eve's  neck,  and  bribing  her  with 
kisses. 

"  Hands  off  !"  Eve  laughed,  disengaging  herself, 
"  1  am  above  bribes  !  Out  with  this  wonderful  favor  of 
yours." 

*'Eve,  if  you  don't  grant  it  I  will  never  speak 
to  you." 

"  Won't  you  ?  I  wonder  which  of  us  that  would 
punish  most  ?  But  take  heart,  coz  ;  if  it  is  nothing 
very  terrible,  I  dare  say  I  will  grant  it." 

**  But  it  is  terrible ;  at  least,  you  will  think  it  so.** 

"Ah!"  said  Eve,  growing  grave.  "It  is  some  of 
Monsieur  Paul  Schaffer's  handiwork,  then,  I  dare  ?ay.** 

Hazel  shifted  uneasily  beneath  the  truthful  audjien- 
etrating  dark  eyes. 

"  Yes,  it  is !  Eve,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  so  preju- 
diced against  Paul.     What  right  have  you  to  be  ?** 


■\  > 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


221 


Evo  sat  silent,  her  lips  compressed,  her  hands  folded, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  sullen  rain. 

Hazel  fidgeted,  and  looked  uneasily  at  her  cousin. 

"  Eve." 

*'Well?" 

"  Ho  wants  me  to — to  go  to  a  ball  with  him.  There  1 
the  murder's  out  !" 

"  To  go  to  a  bull  ?    When,  and  where  ?" 

"  It  is  a  military  ball,  in  Montreal,  and  ihe  time  is, 
to-morrow  night." 

"  And  do  you  imagine  Madame  Moreau  will  consent 
to  any  such  thing  ? 

"  I  don't  intend  to  ask  her.  I  want  to  go  without 
her  knowledge.    I  can  do  it,  easily." 

"  Indeed  1    How?" 

"  Can't  I  dress  in  our  room  ? — my  white  muslin  will 
do  well  enough — and  get  out  by  the  rope-ladder.  Paul 
will  be  waiting  with  a  carriage.  The  cars  will  take  us 
to  the  city,  and  fetch  us  back  before  five  the  next  morn- 


ing. 


Eve  faced  su-i'denly  round,  with  kindling  eyes. 
"  Hazel,  did  Paul  Schaffer  ask  you  to  do  this  ?" 
"Have  I  not  just  told  you  so  ?"  uneasily  and  impa- 
tiently. 


&33 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


"And  you  consented  ?" 

"  Yes  !"  said  Hiizel,  defiantly.     **  And  what  of  it  ?" 

''■  Only  tluit  Paul  Sclialler  is  a  villain,  and  you — 0 
Huzel  I  Ilazcl ! — have  no  respect  for  yourself  at  all." 

Hazel  bounced  indignantly  down  on  the  floor. 

**■  Eve  Hazelwood,  I'd  thank  you  to  mind  what  you 
are  saying.  Yes;  he  did  ask  me,  and,  what's  more,  ho 
has  sent  you  an  invitation  to  accompany  mc.  Now 
there  !" 

Eve  rose  up,  her  eyes  like  black  stars,  her  checks  rosy 
flame.  "  And  Paul  Schaffer  dared  to  send  mc  such  an 
insult  as  that  ?" 

"  Oh,  fiddlesticks  !  Insult  your  grandmollier  ! 
Y''ou'rc  somebody  groat — ain't  you? — that  you're  not  to 
be  insulted." 

Eve  stood  silent,  looking  at  her,  more  in  sorrow  than 
in  anger  ;  and  Hazol  still  kept  shifting  and  fidgeting 
under  tho;e  earnest  eyes. 

"  Now,  look  hero.  Cousin  Eve,  what  I  want  to  know 
is  this  :  Will  you  kcej)  my  secret  ?  I  can't  get  away 
without  your  knowing,  or  I  wouldn't  ask  you.  Kate 
Schaffcr  is  going,  too  ;  so  where  will  be  the  impropriety  ? 
It  is  only  a  schoolgirl  frolic,  that  no  one  would  object 
to  but  an  old  granny  like  yourself  1" 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


233 


u 


"  Kiite  Scluiffer  may  go  if  she  pleases  ;  but  you  shall 
not." 

"  Shall  not  ?"  said  ITazcl,  her  eyes  beginning  to 
flash  ;  "  take  care,  Eve  Ilazchvood  !" 

"Shall  not!"  repeated  Eve,  resolutely,  "not  if  I 
have  to  sit  up  all  night  to  prevent  you.  Sooner  than 
let  you  g(i,  I  will  go  to  madame,  and  tell  her  all !" 

"  Telltale  !"  hiiised  Hazel,  red  with  passion,  and 
Evc'ri  face  turned  crimson  at  the  word. 

'•  What  do  I  care  ?  You  shall  not  make  me  angly, 
Ilazrl,  and  you  shall  not  disgrace  youself.  No,  you 
shall  not  go,  and  some  day  you  will  thank  me  for 
it." 

Ilazel  essayed  to  speak,  but  anger  and  disappoint- 
ment were  too  niucli  for  her,  and  she  burst  into  a  hys- 
terical passion  of  sobs.  Eve's  own  eyes  Qlled,  and  she 
put  her  arms  round  lier  cousin,  but  that  indignant  young 
lady  shook  her  violently  off. 

"Let  me  alone,  will  you?  you  hateful,  obstinate,  sel- 
fish thing  !  I  hate  you,  Eve  Ilazclwood,  and  I'll  go  in 
spite  of  you  !    Tliere  !" 

The  class-bell  rang  laudly,  but  Hazel,  sobbing  and 
scolding,  paid  no  attention  to  it.  Eve  lingered,  looking 
at  her. 


I 


224 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


"  Hazel  dear,  tlou't  bo  angry.  It  ia  becauso  I  lovo 
you  I  can't  consent." 

"  You  don't  love  mo  !  You  lovo  nobody  but  yonr- 
self !  You're  just  what  Paul  says,  a  cold-hearted, 
unfeeling  thing ;  but  I'll  go,  if  I  dio  for  it  1  Mind 
that  !" 

"  You  had  better  stop  crying,  and  come  down-stairs. 
The  supper  bell  has  rung  " 

"  liCt  it  ring!"  said  Ilazel,  desperately;  "I  don't 
■want  any  supper.  Go  and  eat  your  own,  it's  all  you  care 
for." 

Now,  really,  this  was  a  most  unjust  reproach  ;  for, 
to  do  Eve  justice,  lier  palate  was  the  least  of  her  troub- 
les— which  was  very  far  from  being  Miss  Wood's  case. 
Eve  smiled  involuntarily  as  she  heard  it,  and  leavi)ig  tlio 
carre  without  another  word,  descended  to  the  salle  d 
manger. 

"Hazel  will  thinlc  bettor  of  it,"  she  mused  ;  **I  don't 
believe  she  will  go  without  her  tea." 

Eve  was  right.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  Ilazel 
dried  her  eyes,  and  took  her  lacerated  heart  down-stairs, 
to  seek  consolation  in  the  pale,  lukewarm  fluid,  known 
in  boarding-schools  as  tea,  and  its  accompanying  slices 
of  transparent  bread  and  butter.    Fifteen  minutes  was 


- 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


the  time  allotted  Tor  devouring  these  duiiiLies.  At  the 
end  of  tliiit  period,  a  signal  was  given  to  rise;  grace 
was  said  by  the  ]n-esiding  teaclior,  and  the  ceremony  was 
over.  Silence  being  the  austere  law  at  nioalLimc,  ten 
minutes  was  allowed  the  girls  afterward  to  relieve  their 
feelings  before  going  np-stairs,  and  Babel  broke  loose 
the  instant  grace  was  ended.  Just  in  the  midst  of  a 
Avild  uproar  and  confusion  of  tongues,  the  folding-doors 
of  tlie  salle  d  manner  sjHit  open,  and  in  sailed  Madame 
Moreau,  followed  by  a  gentleman.  At  sight  of  their 
commander-in-chief,  the  tumult  ceased,  and  all  eyes 
turned  on  her  companion,  a  tall,  dark,  foreign-looking 
gentleman,  bearded  and  mustached  like  a  pard,  and 
most  exceedingly  handsome. 

"Here  are  my  little  family,  monsieur,"  laughed  ma- 
dame,introducing  him  to  the  pensionnaires ,\v\\o  returned 
his  bow  by  a  simultaneous  schoolgirl  obeisance.  "You 
perceive  they  have  just  concluded  their  frugal  repast.'' 

'•'Frugal,"  murmured  Kate  Schaffer,  looking  mourn- 
fully round  the  sloppy  tea-table,  "I  should  think  so. 
We  are  safe  from  dyspepsia  and  the  gout  while  we  are 
under  your  charge,  madame." 

The  gentleman's  dark  eyes,  wandering  from  face  to 
face,  rested  on  that  of  Eve,  standing  near  a  window, 


9M 


A     TEMPEST    m    A     TEAPOT. 


from  wliicli  slio  luul  boon  watching  ilic  I'iiiny  twilight* 
IIo  did  not  approaoli  h(M-,  liowevcr,  but  went  up  to  Ilazcl, 
who  stood  nil  alone,  as  sulky  as  a  boar. 

**  One  of  your  family  appears  to  be  in  distress,  ma- 
dame,"  he  said.  And  Eve  recognized  at  once  the  melo- 
dious foreign  accented  voice.  "The  world  seems  to 
have  gone  wrong  with  tiiis  young  lady  ?" 

Hazel  shrugged  pettishly,  and  turned  round  with  a 
sulky  action,  that  said  as  plainly  as  words  : 

"I  wish  )'ou  would  mind  your  own  Ijusincss." 

"You  have  been  crying,  Miss  Wood?''  questioned 
madamc,  looking  at  her. 

"No,  I  haven't !"  said  Ilazel,  as  crossly  as  she  dared 
— for  I  am  sorry  to  say  Miss  Wood  thought  no  more  of 
small  fibs  at  timt:^  than  she  did  of  rudeness — "  there's 
nothing  the  matter  with  me." 

The  stranger  smiled,  passed  on,  and  camo  to  where 
Eve  stood. 

"Ah,"  ho  said,  stopping,  "hero  is  a  familiar  face. 
You  and  I  have  met  before,  mademoiselle." 

"  Met  before  !"  echoed  madame,  while  all  the  teach- 
ers and  pupils  stared.  "  AYhy,  where  can  Monsieur  Men- 
dez  have  met  Miss  Hazelwood  ?" 

"  Madame,  the  other  evening,  walking  along  the  road 


51 

I 


r- 


i'llM  :ijtJI%1i|i 


A     TEMPEST    IN    A     TEAPOT. 


227 


out  there,  I  saw  u  fairy,  all  in  white  and  pink,  standing 
at  a  gato  in  the  moonlight,  and  I  wont  up,  and  asked  to 
be  directed  to  you." 

"It  wa.s  the  night  of  the /c/e,"  Eve  said,  a  little 
embarrassed  to  liiid  all  eyes  fixed  on  her.  *'I  diiccted 
monsieur  to  the  pcnsionnat." 

Here  the  stiuly-bcH  rang,  and  madame  and  her  com- 
panion bowing  iheins(!lvc3  out,  left  the  young  ladies  to 
go  up- stairs,  llerniine,  the  portress,  was  just  openine; 
the  front  door  in  answer  to  an  imperative  ring  as  her 
mistress  crossed  the  vestibule  on  her  way  to  the  parlor. 
The  visitor  was  a  little,  spare,  wiry  man,  who  nodded  to 
madame  with  easy  indifference,  but  started  back  at  sight 
of  her  companion  as  if  he  had  seen  a  ghost. 

"Eh,  what!"  he  cried,  energetically,  "it  can't  be  1 
it  can't  be  !"' 

And  the  sentence  was  llnished  by  a  blank  stare. 

"  Monsieur  evidently  mistakes  me  for  some  one," 
said  the  gentleman,  with  a  courteous  smile  and 
bow. 

"No,  that  never  was  his  voice,"  said  the  little  man, 
still  staring;  "beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  you  look  so 
much  like  some  one  I  once  knew,  that  at  first  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  didn't  think  it  was  he." 


228 


A     TEMPEST    IN   A     TEAPOT. 


"  Allow  me  to  make  you  acquainted,  gentlemen," 
interposed  madamo,  blandly  ;  "  Monsieur,  this  is  Doc- 
tor Lance,  one  of  my  professors,  and  the  guardian  of 
two  of  my  pupils.  Professor,  my  friend  from  Cuba, 
Senor  Mcndez,  who  has  kindly  come  to  visit  me  in  my 
Canadian  home." 

"Happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,  sir,"  grunted 
the  professor.  "Madame,  I  Avant  to  see  my  wards — I 
have  a  piece  of  news  for  them  that  I  think  will  make 
them  open  their  eyes." 

Madame  led  the  way  into  the  pai'lor,  and  rang  the 
bell. 

"No  bad  news,  I  trust  ?"  she  asked. 

"  That's  as  may  be.  The  fact  is,  I'm  tired  of  them, 
and  I  think  it  high  time  tiiis  other  guardian,  who  is 
also  their  nearest  living  blood  relation,  should  take 
charge  of  them.  So  I  wrote  to  him.  He  was  in  Eng- 
land, as  you  know,  and  hero  (producing  a  document) 
is  his  answer,  telling  mo  to  pack  them  both  off  by  the 
next  steamer  to  him." 

"  Mon  Dicu  !  we  shall  be  desolated  at  losing  them. 
Babette,"  to  the  girl  who  answered  the  bell,  "go  tell 
Mademoiselles  Wood  and  Hazelwood  that  their  guardian 
is  here  and  desires  to  see  them  immediately." 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


239 


"Monsieur's  wards  are,  then,  the  two  young  ladies  I 
was  speaking  to  ?"  asivcd  Senor  Mcudez. 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  and  the  tall  and  handsome  one  is 
the  star  pupil  of  my  school.  Ah  !  how  much  we  shall 
regret  her  !  But  I  hear  them  coming  ;  Monsieur  Men- 
dcz,  come  tliis  way,  if  you  please.  Monsieur  Lance  may 
desire  to  be  alone  with  his  wards." 

The  preceptress  and  her  Cuban  friend  passed  out 
just  as  Eve  and  Uazcl,  in  a  state  of  astonishment  as  to 
what  Doctor  Lance  could  possibly  want  at  such  a  time, 
went  in  to  hear  the  unexpected  tidings. 


CHAPTER    XV. 


eve's   llltSr  PROPOSAL. 


HE  chamhrcs  d  coucher,  as  Madame  Moreau*s 
young  ladies  styled  what  common  people  call 
their  bedrooms,  were  situated  on  the  third 
Hoov  oi  thopcn-^ionnaf.  J  and  all  along  that  third  floor, 
one  moonlight  night,  about  a  week  after  the  rainy  after- 
noon on  wnich  Eve  and  Ilazol  quarreled,  a  long  vow  of 
lights  twinkled.  Li  these  apartments  sacred  to  youih, 
beauty,  inuocouce,  and  all  that  kind  of  thing,  the  whole 
9 


230 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


troupe  oi  pcnslonnaires  above  tlie  age  of  ten  were  gatli- 
cred,  and  great  was  the  bustle,  and  chatting  and  confus- 
ion reigning  within.  Bustle  and  confusion,  iufj  f.  ■  J 
been  the  order  of  tiie  day.  Tlie  wliolo  school  w;is  in  a 
state  of  unprecedented  excitement,  thinking  and  talking 
of  nothing  but  tlio  two  great  events  about  to  take  place 
— the  departure  of  Eve  and  Hazel  for  England,  and  ^[ad- 
danio  Schaffer's  grand  farewell-party,  given  the  night 
before  their  departure,  in  tlieir  honor.  Tiie  misery  of 
parting,  Avhich  had  cost  the  young  ladies  copious  showers 
of  tears  during  the  past  melancholy  week,  was  entirely 
lost  sight  of  to-night.  Tliey  were  all  sorry,  no  doubt,  but, 
poor  caged  starlings!  we  all  know  how  sweet  parties  were 
in  our  boarding-school  days.  Oil,  the  Elysian  dreams  of 
the  Eweet  youths  we  were  to  dance  with  ;  the  delicious 
visions  of  ice-cream,  jellies,  boned  turkey,  aiul  blanc 
mange,  that  floated  before  our  mind's  eyes  ;  aiul  how 
utterly  we  forgot  the  existence  of  Lindley  Murray,  the 
rule  of  three,  and  the  dismal  to-morrow,  in  tlie  whirl  of 
the  waltz  and  the  glare  of  tlie  gaslight.s.  So  the  pcji- 
sionnnircs  arrayed  thcniselvis  in  all  the  purple  aiul  fine 
linen  'allowed  at  that  bread-and-bnttcr-cating  age,  and 
giggled,  and  gossiped,  and  lost  sight  a]^c,_^'3thcr  of  tho 
heart-rending  parting  so  close  at,  hand. 


J 


EVE'S    FIRST    rnOPOSAL. 


281 


In  one  of  these  rooms,  all  littered  over  with  garments, 
books,  lialf-packod  trunks,  and  traveling-bags,  two 
demoiselles  were  putting  the  finishing  touches  on  their 
toilet.  The  one  wlio  stood  before  Llie  glass,  eyeing  her- 
self complacently  from  tip  to  toe,  liad  lier  small  and 
very  roundabout  figure  draped  in  a  swelling  amplitude 
of  pink  gauze,  very  low-necked,  very  short-sleeved,  white 
and  red  roses  looping  up  tJie  full  skirt,  clasping  the  cor* 
sago,  clasping  the  sleeves,  and  wreathed  in  and  out  the 
bright  brown  hair.  But  the  red  roses  paled  before  the 
peony  liuo  of  her  clieeks.  Hushed  with  excitement  ;  and 
the  stars  of  Cancer,  glittering  in  the  June  sky  outside; 
were  not  brigliter  nor  starrier  than  the  shining  brown 
eyes.  She  liad  just  drenched  a  pocket-handkerchief  in 
Jockey  Club,  filling  the  room  with  i)erfumc,  and  flirting 
out  her  gauzy  skirts,  she  twirled  round  like  a  whirlwind, 
and  settled  suddenly  down  before  her  companion,  in 
what  children  call  "making  a  cheese,"  her  pink  dress 
ballooning  out  all  around  her. 

"  Ma  bo)iue  cousinc!  ma  chcrc  princesse,  my  darling 
Eve  !  how  do  you  like  mc  ?*'  ' '  * ■ 

The  young  lady  addressed  stood  at  some  distance,"  7' 
drawing  on  lier  gloves.     At  all  times,  in  any  dress,  Evo 
Huzelwood  must  be  beautiful,  but  she  looked  unusually 


202 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


invelv  to-niglit.  It  might  have  been  that  her  dress  was 
lu  •  becoming ;  amber  crape,  with  trimmings  of  rich 
white  hice  and  creamy  roses ;  her  only  ornament  a  slender 
gold  chain  and  cross,  and  the  glossy  black  cnrls  falling 
in  glittering  darkness  over  her  shoulders.  If  Hazel  was 
flushed,  Eve  was  pale — something  unusal  for  her — and 
that  and  the  pensive  look  her  sweet  face  wore  gave, 
perhaps  the  now  charm  to  her  fresh  young  beauty.  She 
and  Hazel  had  smoked  the  calumet  of  peace,  though 
Miss  "Wood  had  not  gone  to  the  bull,  and  Mr.  Paul 
SchafEer  had  hoard  tlie  whole  iiffaii',  and  formed  his  own 
opinion  of  Eve  accordingly.  Slio  looked  up  now,  and 
surveyed  her  cousin  with  a  critical  eye. 

"Yon  look  in  good  health,  for  yonr  face  is  as  red  as 
your  dress,  but  you  smell  ratlier  strongly  for  my  taste. 
Why  do  you  use  so  much  perfume  ?" 

"Because  I  like  to  smell  nice;  and  gentlemen  are 
something  like  hounds — they  follow  the  scent !  Doesn't 
my  dress  fit  splendidly  ?" 

"It's  a  great  deal  too  tight.  You'll  burst  out  of 
your  hooks  and  eyes  before  morning." 

"I'ldo  nothing  of  the  sort!''  indignantly.  "Yon 
wouldn't  have  me  go  in  a  bag,  I  hope  !  It  fits  like  a 
worsted  stocking  on  a  man's  nose  1" 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


388 


"  Now,  TIazol,  you  kuow  you  broke  tliree  corset-laccs 
screwing  yourself  up  before  you  could  get  it  in  !  You'll 
die  of  a  rush  of  blood  to  the  head,  if  you  are  not  care- 
ful !" 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  Hazel,  in  a  subdued  tone; 
"I  feel  as  if  there  was  an  extra  quantity  of  the  fluid  up 
there  now.  But  Avhat  is  one  to  do  ?  I  can't  go  looking 
like  a  hogshead  round  the  Avaist,  and  I  must  lace  up  to 
be  a  decent  figure.  I  don't  sec  why  I  can't  be  thin  and 
genteel,  like  you  ;  it's  dreadful  to  be  so  fat  as  I 
am!" 

"  It's  a  harrowing  case,  certainly,"  said  Eve,  laugh- 
ing ;  "and  what's  more,  I  am  afraid  there  is  no  liclp  for 
it.     However,  Paul  Scliaffer  doesn't  mind — " 

"Dear,  darling  Paul!"  burst  out  the  gushing  Miss 
"Wood,  her  eyes  dancing  fandangoes  in  her  head.  "0 
Eve !  isn't  ic  good  of  him  to  come  to  England  with  us, 
all  on  my  account.  Nobody  need  say,  after  that,  he 
doesn't  care  for  me  !" 

This  fact  was  quite  true.  Monsieur  Paul  Schaffer 
had,  to  the  surprise  of  everyone,  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  going  over  the  Atlantic  in  the  same  steamer  with 
Doctor  Lance  and  his  wards.  Hazel's  first  sensation,  on 
being  told  of  her  removal  to  auothez  laud,  had  been  cue 


234 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


of  iutensest  dismay.  What  will  Panl  say  ?  How  couM 
I  leave  Paul  ?  had  been  her  first  distracted  thought 
Paul  settled  the  matter  at  once. 

"I  liave  been  waiting  to  visit  Old  England  this  long 
time,  petite,"  he  said,  coollj*,  "and  now  is  the  time. 
I  will  go  over  with  you,  my  darling,  and  sec  what  kind 
of  place  this  ancestral  home  of  you  Hazelwoods  is." 

And  from  that  instant  Hazel's  earthly  happiness 
was  complete. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  can't  like  him,  Eve,"  she  said, 
jietulantly  ;  "you  have  no  right  to  be  so  prejudiced. 
If  I  lost  him,"  Avitli  a  little  passiouate  gesture,  "1 
should  die  V' 

There  was  so  much  of  desperate  earnestness  in  poor 
Hazel's  tones,  that  Eve  was  touched.  She  took  the 
Ijurning  cheeks  between  her  cool  hands,  and  bending 
down,  kissed  her. 

"My  darling,  I  will  try  to  like  him  for  your  sake, 
but  he  is  not  half  good  enough  for  you  !" 

"  I  tell  you  he  is  !  He  is  good  enough  for — a  prin- 
cess I" 

"Not  for  me  !"  laughed  Eve.  "I  would  not  marrr 
him  if  he  were  to  make  me  a  queen  1  But  all  to  their 
taste.    Are  you  engaged  ?" 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


235 


*'  No — yes — I  don't  know.     He  loves  mo,  and  I  him 

— that's  enough." 

"  Is  it  ?  I  know  notliing  ubont  such  things  ;  but  it 
seems  to  mo  ho  shouki  speak  to  our  guardian." 

"What!  to  that  old  death's-head-and-cross-bones, 
Doctor  Lance  ?  No,  thank  yuu.  AVait  till  we  go  to 
England,  and  then  I  know  he  will  ask  our  other  guar- 
dian. Cousin  Arthur.  lie  cannot  be  such  an  old 
suapping-tiirtle,  surely,  as  this  one." 

"Hazel,  look  here.     Is  he  my  cousin,  too  ?" 

"Why,  of  course  he  is  !     Why  shouldn't  he  be  ?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  sometimes  I  think — Hazel,  do 
you  know  I  scarcely  ever  heard  anything  of  my  father 
and  mother  ?" 

"  Why,  they're  buih  dead  and  buried  ages  ago,"  said 
Hazel,  drawing  on  her  gloves.  "  What  on  earth  did  you 
Avant  to  hear  aliout  them  ?'' 

'*  Y"our  mother  never  would  speak  of  them.  She 
used  to  put  me  off.  And  Doctor  Lance,  the  only  time 
I  over  summoned  u[)  courage  enough  to  speak  to  him  on 
the  subject,  told  me  to  hold  my  tongue,  and  be  thank- 
ful I  ever  had  a  father  and  mother  at  all,  for  it  was 
more  than  I  deservcLl." 

"  And   served  j'ou  right  too,"  was  Hazel's  sympa- 


986 


EVK'S    FIRST    PliOPOSAL. 


tlietic  answer,  "drugging  dead  people  out  of  their 
graves.  There,  I  dcchiro  they're  calling  us !  Where's 
my  hood  and  shawl  ?    Are  you  ready  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Eve,  hastily  donning  her  wraps  ;  "  per- 
haps Babetto  and  Ilermine  are  to  pack  up  for  us,  and 
liave  our  trunks  ready  when  called  for.  Are  thoy 
not?" 

"Yes,  yes,  come  along,  or  all  the  rest  will  got  into 
the  carriages  Ijeforo  us  and  we  will  get  our  dresses  aw- 
fully mussed  up.'' 
.    Eve  cast  one  last  long  look  beljind. 

"  Good-bye,  old  room,"  she  said  ;  "I  have  been  very 
happy  here — liappior,  perhaps,  than  I  will  ever  be  in  the 
laud  where  I  am  going. " 

Half  a  dozen  carriages,  not  to  speak  of  the  I\ugo 
carryall  belonging  to  the  school,  known  to  the  girls  as 
Noah's  Ark,  were  drawn  up  before  the  door,  and  the 
ecstatic  pensio7i7iaires  crowded  in,  and  in  twenty  min- 
utes were  crowding  out  again  in  front  of  the  Schaffer 
homestead.  That  building  was  one  sheet  of  light  from 
cellar  to  grenierj  and  the  regimental  band,  perched  up 
in  the  gallery  of  the  ball-room,  was  in  full  blast  at  the 
eternal  "Vive  la  Canadienne." 

*•  Vive  la  Yankee-enne  !"  commenced  Hazel  Wood, 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


237 


leaping  out  into  the  extended  coatsleeves  of  her  adored 
Paul. 

"  "We're  no  Canadians,  for  which  oli  be  joyful  I" 

"Welcome,  maj)ctile!"  exclaimed  Madame  Schaifer, 
sweeping  up,  gorgeous  to  look  at,  in  ruby  satin,  and 
emeralds,  and  kissing  Ilazcl's  two  red  cheeks,  "and 
welcome  my  lovely  Eve.  But,  Man  Dieu!  whore  have 
your  roses  gone  to,  child  ?  You  are  as  white  as  a 
spirit  !  " 

"Hazel  has  them."  Eve  smiled  as  she  ran  up-stairs 
to  her  dressing-room.  "  Louis,  don't  pull  the  dress  oflE 
my  back  !    Wluit  do  you  want  ?" 

"  The  first  waltz,  Evo  !  We're  parting — where  is  my 
pockethandkcrchief  ?  It  may  be  for  years,  and  it  may 
bo  forever,  as  Kathleen  ^lavourneen  remarks,  and  it's 
the  least  you  can  do.     Say  yes." 

"Yes,  yes  ;  let  me  go  !  Here  comes  Doctor  Lance 
and  Monsieur  D'Arville  1    They  will  say  we  are  flirt- 


ing. 


"  They  never  made  a  greater  mistake  in  their  lives, 
then,"  said  Louis,  sauntering  off,  while  Eve  ran  up-stairs 
after  the  rest. 

All  was  confusion  and  most  admired  disorder  in  the 
drawing-room,  where  every  one  was  talking  and  laugh- 


238 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


ing  at  the  tiptop  of  her  lungs,  and  paying  no  attention 
to  her  neighbor. 

"Talk  about  Babel  !"  exclaimed  Hazel,  tripping  past 
Eve,  "after  this  tumult.  Hurry  up,  Eve,  if  you  don't 
want  to  bo  deafened  hn-  life." 

Eve,  consigning  her  wraps  to  a  servant,  shook  out  her 
floating  skirts,  glanced  at  her  curls  and  at  the  briglit 
face  the  mirror  reflected,  and  left  the  noisy  scene.  At 
the  foot  of  the  grand  staircase  she  encountered  Louis 
Schaffer. 

"  Here  you  are  at  last  !"  cried  that  young  gentleman, 
briskl}'.  "  What  a  shocking  length  of  time  it  does  tako 
you  girls  to  settle  your  furbelows  !"  (Eve  hud  been 
gone  about  six  minutes.)  "  Come  along,  our  waltz  will 
commence  in  a  brace  of  shakes." 

**  Wliat  length  of  time  is  a  brace  of  shakes,  Louis  ?" 
laughed  Eve  as  she  his  took  arm  and  entered  the  bril- 
liantly-lighted and  well-filled  ballroom. 

"Xevcr  you  mind,  it's  that  long.  Oh  my,  what  have 
we  here  ?  " 

Quite  a  large  circle  were  gathered  near  the  center  of 
the  room,  who,  judging  from  their  peals  of  laughter, 
were  evidently  enjoying  themselves  immensely.  Among 
them,  with  an  amused  smile  on  his  face,  stood  Professor 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


230 


D'Arville,  unci  in  tho  center  of  the  group  stood  Paul 
Sclmilcr,  with  Iltizol  ;iud  liulf  a  dozen  of  the  wild  pen- 
sionnaires  iiround  liim. 

"Eve,  Eve,  come  here  !"  called  Kate  Schaffer,  "and 
defend  yourself,  llazol  Wood  is  telling  tales  out  of 
school." 

"Relating  dreadful  legends  of  your  goings  on  in 
New  York,  mademoiselle,"  said  the  young  professor, 
turning  his  amused  face  to  the  young  lady  he  addressed. 
"Are  they  all  true  ?" 

"Of  course  they  arc,"  shrilly  cried  Hazel.  "I  never 
tell  libs." 

"  Except  where  the  truth  don't  answer,"  put  in 
Louis  Scluilfer,  sotto  voce. 

"  Mr.  Schaffer,  I'll  thank  you  not  to  be  impertinent ; 
you  know  nothing  about  it.  Oh,  wo  used  to  have  glor- 
ious times  in  the  long  vacations,  and  Eve,  p;  n  as  she 
looks,  can't  deny  it.  We  used  to  promenade  Broadway 
— clean,  delightful,  delicious  Broadway — at  all  hours  of 
tlie  day  and  night,  staring  at  the  nice  young  men  loaf- 
ing and  picking  their  teeth  on  the  hotel  steps,  disporting 
ourselves  Sundays  in  the  Park  on  two  charming  ponies 
Ave  had  and  turning  the  heads  of  everything  masculine 
we  came  across.    Didn't  we,  Eve  ?" 


240 


EVE'S    FIliST    PROPOSAL. 


"Do  como  jvway,"  HuiJ  Evo  to  Louis,  lior  checks 
llusliiug,  and  fueling  iinno)'C(l  boyonil  moasurc,  slio 
Bciirccly  knew  why,  at  Jlazol's  exaggerated  expose.  Por- 
luips  because  Paul  Scliaffer  was  staring  at  her  so  offen- 
sively as  ho  caressed  his  nuistacho  ;  perhaps,  because 
of  that  amused  and  queer  sniilo  on  Monsieur  D'Ar  'o's 
luindsoinc   Ci-eolc  face  ;   pcrliaps — but  who  car  a 

girl's  reasons  wlien  slie  cannot  even  do  it  herself  ? 

"  Then  there  was  Burnuni's  Museum  in  tlie  after- 
noon," Avcnt  on  the  reckless  Hazel,  "where  we  used  to 
go  to  the  theater,  and  push,  and  pull,  and  crowd  in  with 
the  rest  of  the  female  mob  who  frequent  that  palace  of 
wonders.  And  oh  !  such  a  fascinating  young  policeman 
that  used  to  grab  us  by  the  shoulder  and  land  us  across, 
through  a  delirious  maze  of  stages,  cars,  carts,  coaches, 
and  every  other  kind  of  vehicle  under  heaven,  fi-om  a 
wheelbarrow  up.  lie  Avas  my  first,  my  last,  my  only 
love,  that  nice  young  policeman  ;  and  I  know  Eve  was  in 
a  worse  state  about  him  than  I !" 

*'  Louis,  Louis,  come  away  !"  Evo  repeated,  every 
vein  tingling  with  her  intense  mortification;  but  Louis 
was  enjoying  the  fun  amazingly,  and  held  her  fast. 

"  And  what's  more,"  Hazel  continued,  lowering  her 
Toice  to  a  thrilling  whisper,  '*  we  used  to  go  the  Bowery 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


241 


Theater.  Our  gentlemen  wouldn't  take  us  there,  so  wo  paid 
the  waiter-man  in  the  house  where  wo  boarded  to  escort 
us.  Eve  only  went  once,  and  after  hard  coaxing  then  ; 
but  I  went  lots  of  times,  and  there  never  was  such 
fun.  Oh,  my  heart  will  certuiuly  break  after  New 
York." 

"  For  pity  sake,  Louis,  let  mo  go  1"  Eve  desperately 
cried,  and  Louis  looking  at  her,  saw  her  whole  face  flushed 
and  her  eyes  full  of  tears  of  bitter  humiliation.  More 
keenly  even  than  she  felt  for  herself,  she  felt  for  Hazel, 
who,  of  an  excited  nature  at  all  times  seemed  half  out 
of  herself  to-niglit. 

**  What,  you're  never  crying.  Eve  !"  exclaimed  Louis  : 
and  Professor  D'Arville  glanced  at  the  beautiful  morti- 
fied face  through  his  half-closed  eyes.  "  What  a  goose 
you  are,  to  be  sure  !  Oh,  here's  our  waltz.  Off  wo  go, 
then." 

Very  little  the  belle  of  the  ball — for  such,  undeniably, 
Eve  was — enjoyed  that  waltz. 

**  How  he  must  despise  me  I"  her  pained  heart  kept 
crying  bitterly  all  the  time. 

"lie!"    Ah  that  tell-tale  little  pronoun — even  Eve, 

the  iceberg,  had  come  to  it  at  last. 

Louis  would  have  carried  her  ofi  in  search  of  ice 
11 


242 


EVE'S    FIRST    PSOPOSAL. 


when  the  (lance  was  conduded,  but  Eve  shook  him  off 
rather  peremptorily,  and  started  in  search  of  her  cousin, 
bent  on  reading  her  a  lecture.  In  the  cool  recess  of  a 
deep  window  she  found  her  seated,  Hushed  after  the 
the  waltz,  fanning  herself  violently,  and  fortunately 
alone.  Paul  Schaffer  had  gone  in  search  of  a  glass  of 
ice-water  for  his  hot  little  partner.  Eve  broke  upon  hei*, 
with  scarlet  checks  and  flashing  eyes,  and  began  the 
attack  without  preface. 

"  Hazel,  have  y(ni  gone  mad  ?  "What  did  you  mean 
by  telling  all  those  atrocious  fables  to  that  gaping  crowd 
half  an  hour  ago,  and  making  us  the  laughing  ^tock  of 
the  room  ?  If  you  have  no  respect  for  yourself,  you 
might  have  a  little  consideration  for  me." 

"  Eh  ?"  said  ILizel,  looking  up  in  surprise.  "  What's 
all  this  about  ?     What's  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

**  The  matter  !"  said  Eva,  in  a  tone  of  suppressed 
passion.  "  You  made  a  pretty  show  of  yourself  and  mo 
to-night,  did  you  not  ?" 

"  La  !    I  only  told  the  truth  !" 

"  It  was  not  the  truth  ;  at  least,  you  exaggerated 
most  shamefully.  What  must  those  who  heard  you 
think  ?  Professor  D'Arville  will  have  a  lino  opinion  of 
his  pupils." 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


243 


''Ball!  Who  cares?  Au  old  schoolmaster  like 
him!" 

"  He  is  not  a  schoolmaster  !" 

"  Positive,  school  ;  comparative,  schoolmaster  ;  su- 
perlative, professor  !  It's  worse  !  Besides,  we  are 
not  liis  pupils  any  more  ;  we  are  going  to  '  Merrie 
England,' 

'Enghind,  my  country — great  and  free, 
Heart  of  the  worUJ,  I  leap  to  thee.' 


Professor  D'Arville  may  go  to  grass  I" 

"I  have  only  one  thing  to  say,"  exclaimed  Eve, 
who,  hcing  only  mortal' — i)oor  thing! — like  the  rest  of 
us,  was  intensely  angry,  ''  that  if  I  ever  hear  you  tell- 
ing such  abominable  tales  again,  you  and  I  will  not  be 
friends  for  the  rest  of  our  li";  s  !    Kcmcml)or  that." 

Paul  Schaffer  was  comir.;  up  with  tiie  ico-wator,  and 
Eve  swept  away,  catching  Flazel's  shrill  exclamation  as 
she  wont. 

"  Why,  Paul,  here's  Eve  raging  like  a  Bengal  tiger 
because  I  said  all  that  a  while  ago,  and  Professor  D'Ar- 
ville heard  it.     Did  you  ever  ?" 

In  no  mood  at  that  moment  for  enjoyment,  and  hot 
almost  as  Hazel  herself.  Eve  stepped  through  one  of  the 


244 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


large  French  windows,  out  on  the  lawn,  for  the  drawing- 
room  was  on  the  ground-floor.  Something  else  had 
annoyed  her  on  the  way.  Kate  Sclmffer  was  singing, 
like  a  nightingale,  some  charming  Italian  songs,  and 
Professor  D'Arvillc  was  standing  by  the  piano,  turning 
over  her  music  with  an  entranced  face,  drinking  in  every 
note,  with  eyes  and  ears  for  her  alone.  Poor  Eve  I 
She  had  got  into  a  most  uniiappy  state  of  mind  that 
night,  aiid  everything  was  going  wrong.  Kate  Sehaffer 
was  a  handsome  girl,  an  heiress,  and  the  daughter  of 
the  house,  no  doubt ;  but  why  need  Professor  D'Arville 
be  blind  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world  because  of  that  ? 

The  weird  white  summer  moon,  sailing  serenely  up 
in  the  blue-black  concave  of  heaven,  with  her  myriad  of 
stars  keeping  court  about  her,  looked  down  on  the  flushed 
cheek  and  troubled  breast  of  the  young  girl,  leaning 
against  the  pine-tree,  as  it  has  looked  on  many  another 
young  girl  in  similar  trouble.  Eve  saw  nothing  of  the 
solemn  beauty  of  the  night.  Slie  was  thinking  that  to- 
morrow she  left  Canada  forever,  and  })erhaps  the  first 
news  she  would  hear,  in  far-off  England,  would  bo  the 
marriage  of  Monsieur  D'Arville  and  Kate  Schaffer. 
There  was  no  earthly  reason  why  such  an  event  should 
disturb  her,  but  it  did  disturb  her  signally  ;  and,  just  as 


EVE' a    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


845 


she  was  brooding  drearily  over  it,  two  gentlemen  came 
up  the  path  to  tlie  house,  smoking  cigars  and  talking. 
EvG  recognized  them,  and  drew  back  into  the  shadow  of 
the  trees.  One  was  her  guardian.  Doctor  Lance,  the 
other.  Monsieur  Schaffer,  Senior. 

"  And  so,"  Monsieur  Schaffer  was  saying,  "  D'Arville 
has  really  accepted  this  situation." 

"  D'Arville  has  really  accepted  the  situation  of  sec- 
retary to  Mr.  Arthur  Ilazelwooil,  and  goes  to  England 
in  the  same  steamer  witi'  me,"  Doctor  Lance  replied. 
"I  had  no  idea  he  woulu  ^w-n  I  spoke  to  him  about  it 
— told  him  Ilazelwood  hud  written  to  nu;  to  find  uB'I 
fetch  him  a  competent  secretary — tlie  man  himself 
always  was  abominably  lazy  from  a  boy.  I  epoko  to 
D'Arville,  to  see  if  he  knew  any  one  in  Montreal  who 
would  suit.     Ilis  answer  was — 

"'Yes.' 

"  •  Who  is  he  ?'  I  asked. 

"  *  Myself,'  was  his  reply. 

"  Of  course,  I  jumped  at  the  offer — saved  mo  trouble, 
you  see.  The  salary  is  a  good  one,  the  situation  easy  ; 
but  D'Arville  is  a  fool,  for  all  that.  The  young  man  has 
talent,  and  I  never  before  thought  ho  wanted  ambition." 

The  two  passed   in,  and   Eve  came  out  from  the 


246 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


shadow  with  an  altered  face  and  an  altered  heart.  Aa 
she  did  so,  a  step  sounded  bcliind  her  ;  a  tall  figure  was 
by  her  side  in  the  moonlight,  and  Paul  Schaffer's  dark 
eyes  were  upon  her  face.  Something  in  that  look 
startled  Eve.     She  turned  to  go,  but  ho  detained  her. 

"Why  do  you  always  fly  when  I  come  near?"  he 
asked.     "  Am  I  so  very  hateful  to  you  ?" 

Eve  was  naturally  straightforward  and  truthful  in 
the  extreme.  She  merely  closed  her  lips  by  way  of 
answer,  and  .stood  looking  straight  before  her.  Paul 
SchalTer  lowered  his  voice,  his  eyes,  and  his  tall  head. 

"  I  have  been  seurching  for  you  the  iiast  lifteeu 
minutes.     I  have  something  very  particular  to  say." 

Eve's  heart-,  beat  faster,  and  for  one  instant  she 
glanced  hurridlly  around,  as  if  to  fly. 

"No,  nol  You  must  not  go!  Miss  Ilazclwood — 
Eve — you  leave  Canada  to-morrow.  I  must  speak  to  you 
to-night !" 

"I  must  go  into  the  liou.sc  !"  Eve  said,  in  a  violent 
tremor.     "I  shall  bo  mi.v«o(l  I" 

She  turned  to  go,  but  no  caught  her,  and  (he  words 
she  dreaded  to  hear  woiv  spoken.  With  a  sharp  cry» 
she  broke  from  him,  uud  stood,  with  parted  lips  and 
panting  heart,  looking  at  liim  with  dilated  eyes. 


EVE'S    FIRST    PROPOSAL. 


247 


"  I  love  you,  Evo  !''  lie  still  cried.     "  May  I  hope  ?" 

The  eyes  that  looked  iit  him  were  full  of  horror,  aud 
her  hiinds  flew  up  and  covered  her  face. 

"  0  Hazel !  Hazel  !  Hazel !"  was  her  bitter  cry. 

"  I  do  not  care  for  her  !  I  never  did  !  I  care  only  for 
you  !    Eve,  listen  to  me — " 

But  Eve  was  gone.  Back  into  the  house  she  sought 
refuge  in  a  remote  and  closely-curtained  window,  and 
crouched  down,  feeling  as  if  her  whole  life  had  changed 
within  the  hour,  as  if  the  earth  were  reeling  under  her 
feet,  and  youth,  and  innocence,  and  happy  girlhood  gono 
like  a  di'eain. 

Yes,  Eve,  the  hapjjv  days  of  careless  youth  have  gone 
forever  ;  womanhood  with  its  deeper  joys  and  sorrows 
opens  before  you,  and  the  Book  of  Life  has  turned  over 
on  a  new  page. 


248 


UAZELWOOD    UALL. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


HAZELWOOD  HALL. 


lEU  No.  —  was  crowded.  Throngs  of  people 
were  pouring  to  it  in  one  steady  stream ; 
carts,  carriages,  and  vehicles  of  all  sorts  rat- 
tled over  the  stony  city-streets,  and  deposited  their  in- 
side freight  of  travelers,  and  their  outside  freight  of 
baggage  on  the  thronged  pier,  blazing  under  a  scorching 
July  sun. 

"  Everybody"  was  supposed  to  have  left  New  York, 
but  New  York  looked  tolerably  full  yet,  judging  from 
the  number  in  this  particular  spot,  coming  to  see  their 
friends  off  for  England,  or  from  idle  curiosity.  The 
steamer's  deck  was  thronged,  too  ;  in  fact,  every  available 
portion  for  the  steamer,  excepting  tlie  smokepipe,  was 
thronged,  and  great  and  mighty  was  the  uproar  thereof. 
Among  tlie  many  groups,  a  little  knotof  foui  ixrsons 
stood — two  ladies  and  two  gentlemen.  Place  aux  dame*! 
The  ladies  were  very  young,  mere  girls  in  their  teens, 
and  one  very  pretty.  It  was  the  tall  one  with  the 
coquettish  turban  that  set  so  jauntily  on  her  black  curls. 


nAZELWOOD    HALL. 


249 


the  scarlet  tip  of  its  black  plume  not  brighter  than  the 
living  scarlet  on  chock  and  lip,  her  tightly-fitting  bhick 
basquine  showing  oil  to  perfection  a  superb  figure,  litlio 
and  slender  as  a  young  willow,  and  the  morning  sunlight 
floated  back  from  a  pair  of  luminous  dark  eyes,  of  un- 
fathomable depth  and  brightness.  She  leaned  lightly 
against  the  railing,  the  breeze  fluttering  her  gray  dress, 
the  black  lace  vail  she  held  in  her  gloved  hand,  waving 
like  a  black  banner  the  jetty  curls,  and  deepening  the 
roses  in  her  cheeks,  as  she  gazed  at  the  crowd  before  her 
and  talked  with  her  companion. 

It  was  the  other  young  lady,  a  jolly  little  damsel, 
plump  and  dcbonnairc,  whose  laughing  face  was  all 
aglow  with  excitement,  and  who.se  tongue  ran  in  a 
pcrptual  flow  of  tittle-tattle.  For  the  gentlemen  :  one 
was  a  dark,  elderly  sharjj-looki ng,  and  wore  spec- 
tacles; the  other  young,  eminently  handsome,  and 
languidly  indifferent  to  the   vulgar  uproar  about  him. 

Of  course  j'ou  recognize  tlicm — Eve,  Hazel,  Doctor 

Lance,  and  Professor  D'Arville — professor  no  longer, 

but  simply  Monsieur  Claude  D'Arville,  Secretary  to  the 

Honorable  Arthur  Hazclwood,  of  Hazclwood,  County  of 

Essex,    England.      And    they  are  fairly  off  on   their 

journey  at  last. 
.    11* 


250 


IIAZKLWOOD    UALL. 


h 


Antl  Hazel's  cliattering  tonguo  was  running  on  in- 
cessantly. 

"Eve,  look  there  !"  How  killingly  tliat  gontlcmau 
stepping  from  the  hack  is  got  up  !  Why,  my  goodness  ! 
I  declare  if  it's  not  Don  Signor  Monsieur  Mustache 
Whiskcrando  himself  !" 

Eve  looked,  knowing  very  well  who  Hazel  meant, 
and  saw  a  foreign-looking  and  most  distinguished  gen- 
tleman alight  from  a  hack,  his  cloak  over  his  slioulder, 
rn  spite  of  the  heat  of  that  hroiling  July  niorning,  and 
his  sombrero  pulled  over  liis  eyes.  Tlie  memory  of  a 
moonlight  niglit,  of  a  Canadian  village,  and  a  stranger 
slipping  up  to  the  gate  over  which  slio  leaned,  flashed 
back  on  Eve's  mind. 

"It's  Mister  Mendcz,  I  vow!"  Hazel  was  crying. 
"It  can't  be  possible,  you  know  that  he — " 

Hazel  stopped  suddenly.  Among  the  surging  sea  of 
human  beings,  ebbing  and  flowingh  on  the  i>ier,  another 
form  had  canglit  her  eyes,  that  of  a  young  man,  who 
approached  Senor  Mendez,  passed  his  arm  throng  his, 
and  "'alked  witli  him  on  board.  Eve  saw  him  at  the 
same  time,  and  lier  brows  contracted  in  spito  of  Hazel's 
joyful  little  cry  : 

"0  Eve!  there  is  Paul  I" 


HAZEL  wo  OB    UALL. 


251 


"  I  sec  him  !  "  Eve  said  in  a  vexed  tone,  "and  they 
are  coniini;"  here  !  " 

She  tlirew  tlio  vail  she  held,  over  her  hat  to  hide  her 
flushed  and  annoyed  face.  Slic  had  not  seen  Paul 
Schalfer  since  that  memorable  niglit  at  his  aunt's  :  and 
the  sccDc  under  the  pine-tree  came  back,  and  its  hateful 
memory  burned  like  fire  in  her  face.  Some  one  touched 
her  lightly  on  tlie  shoulder,  and  D'Arvillc's  dark  eyes 
were  i)iercing  through  the  vail, 

"  Hero  arc  two  of  your  friends,  mademoiselle.  Ah  I 
I  perceive  you  have  seen  them  !" 

Ilis  tone  and  smile  annoyed  her  intensely,  but  the 
two  new-comers  had  forced  their  way  along  the  deck 
and  stood  l)eEore  them,  hat  in  hand. 

Very  coldly,  very  slightly,  Miss  Ilazelwood  acknowl- 
edged Mr.  SchafEer's  salute,  choosing  to  ignore  alto- 
gether the  hiind  he  extended,  but  Talleyrand  himself 
never  was  more  completely  and  utterly  nonchalant  than 
he.  n  the  waters  of  licthe  had  been  a  reality,  and  he 
had  drunk  out  the  memory  of  this  last  interview,  Paul 
Schaffer  could  not  have  been  one  whit  more  at  his  ease. 

If  Eve's  greeting  lacked  warmth,  Hazel's  made  up 
for  it :  she  pushed  her  hand  through  Paul's  arm,  as  one 
having  the  right ;  and  bore  him  off,  while  the  Cuban 


252  HAZEL  WOOD    HALL. 

prince  attached  himself  to  Doctor  Lance  and  D'Arville. 
So  Eve  stood  quite  alone,  listening  to  the  storm  of  good- 
byes on  every  hand,  and  watching  the  receding  shore  as 
they  steamed  away  on  their  outward-bound  course,  to 
the  parting  cheer  from  the  land,  and  then  a  mist  came 
over  the  bright,  dark  eyes. 

"Good-bye  to  America  !  my  native  land,"  her  heart 
cried.  "  I  have  been  very  happy  there — how  will  it  bo 
with  me  in  the  laud  to  which  I  go  ?" 

There  was  no  prophetic  voice  in  Eve's  soul  to  answer 
the  question.  The  merciful  vail  that  shrouds  the  future 
no  earthly  eyes  might  pierce ;  and  Eve  stopped  in  her 
musings  to  listen  to  a  girlish  voice  near,  singing,  clear 
and  sweet,  Childe  Harold's  farewell  to  England  : 

"Adieu,  adieu  !  my  native  shore 
Fades  o'er  the  waters  blue, 
The  niglit  winds  sigh,  the  breakers  roar, 
And  shrieks  the  wild  scamew  I 


Yon  sun  that  sets  upon  tlie  sea 

We  follow  in  his  flight, 
Farewell,  awhilo,  to  him  and  thee — 

My  native  land,  good-night  !" 

"  Not  good  night,  the  Lord  be  thanked ! "  said 
a  broad  voice,  cutting  in,  "  for  it's  just  breakfast- 
time  1" 


'  ( 


UAZELWOOD    HALL. 


2S8 


There  was  a  genonil  laugh  and  a  rusli  for  tlio  cabin. 
D'Arville  smilingly  offered  his  arm  to  Eve,  and  scuti- 
incut  was  presently  lost  siglit  of  in  sandwiclics ;  and 
coffee  and  beefsteaks  took  the  place  of  tears  and  parting 
regrets. 

"  Will  you  be  sea-sick,  mademoiselle  ?"  Scnor  Men- 
dez  asked  Eve. 

They  were  all  sitting  up  on  deck  again,  the  land 
nearly  out  of  sight,  and  Eve  was  between  the  Creole  and 
D'Arville. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said,  laughing.  "That  re- 
mains to  be  seen  yet.  This  you  know,  is  my  first  voy- 
age.    Shall  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  !  I  am  an  old  sailor,  and  I  was  never  was 
sick  in  my  life." 

"You  are  fortunate,"  said  D'Arville.  "As  for  me, 
I  expect  to  take  my  stateroom  in  an  hour,  and  be  obliged 
to  keep  it  until  we  reach  Southampton." 

"My  case  exactly,"  growled  Doctor  Lance.  "Among 
all  wise  proverbs,  ' Praise  the  sea  but  keep  on  land'  is 
the  wisest.  And  to  think  I  mus.  endure  it  all  for  a 
couple  of  wretched  girls — " 

The  crabbed  little  doctor's  voice  died  away,  pianissi- 
mo, in  a  succession  of  growls  ;  and  Hazels  who  sat  next  to 


2o4 


IIAZEfAVOOD    HALL. 


him,  ro3c  abrnp|-,ly,  -with  ;i  very    white    and   miserable 
face. 

"  I— I  til  ink  I'll  go  bt'luw  !     I  ilon'fc  feel—'' 

"No,  I  should  think  you  didn't,"  said  Paul,  trying 
to  kei'p  grave,  but  laughing  in  spite  of  himself,  as 
nazol's  voice  died  luvay.  "  Allow  mc  to  lead  you  down 
stairs." 

Eve  followed,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  day  was  kept 
busy  enough  wailing  on  Ifazcl,  who  wa-^  wretchedly 
sick,  and  amid  her  groans',  and  throes,  and  tears,  pro- 
tested she  must  die. 

All  niglit  it  was  the  same — ])oor  Ilazers  state  was 
deplorable  ;  and  the  odor  of  cooking  which  would  pene- 
trate into  the  stateroom  aggravated  her  symptoms  be- 
yond expression. 

It  was  late  on  the  second  day  of  the  voyage  beforo 
Eve  could  leave  her  and  go  on  deck  to  catch  a  mouthful 
of  fresh  air.  Fortunately  for  her,  she  had  escaped  the 
mal-dc-mcr  completely  ;  and,  beyond  being  fagged  out 
waiting  on  her  sick  and  cross  little  cousin,  felt  as  well  as 
when  she  had  started. 

WofuUy  thin  the  deck  looked  to  what  it  had  done  at 
starting;  very  few  ladies  were  there,  and  among  the 
gentlemen  only  one  face  was  familiar.     lie  was  leaning 


ii.\zi:lwood  hall. 


255 


over  the  s'ulo  walcliing  the  moon  ri.sc,  red  and  round 
out  of  the  sen,  like  some  licry  Venus,  and  sniokin,:^  a 
ci,L,'ar,  but  lie  threw  it  overl)<)ard  and  started  u])  at  sight 
of  l-]ve. 

"  A  thousand  welcomes,  inailenioiscllo  !  I  am  liap- 
jiior  than  happy  to  find  you  able,  to  come  u[)  oneo  more.'' 

"Oh,  I  have  not  been  ,sick,  monsieur,"  Eve  said, 
laughing,  and  answering  in  French  as  8onc>"  Mendez  had 
set  tlie  example.  '*  I  have  only  been  sie.'.-uurse.  !My 
poor  cousin  is  half  dead  !" 

"I  regret  to  liear  it  !  Here,  sit  down  and  let  us  see 
if  tills  fresh  breeze  will  not  blow  your  roses  back.  Tliey 
have  wilted  altogether  in  that  steaming  and  suffocating 
cabin." 

"Where  arc  all  the  rest?"  Evo  asked,  taking  the 
proffered  stool. 

"In  the  same  predicament  as  your  cousin — all  at 
death's  door,  ]\Ie^siours  Lance,  D'Arville,  and  Sehaffers 
and  Robinson  Crusoe,  in  his  desert  island,  never  was 
lonelier  than  I  !  Providence,  mademoiselle,  must  have 
sent  you  directly  to  my  relief ;  for  I  was  falling  into 
despair,  and  meditating  a  leap  overboard  and  into  the 
other  world,  as  you  came  up." 

"And  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire  I" 


256 


HAZELWOOD    HALL. 


"  Quien  sahe?^'  said  the  Creole,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders, "wo  must  only  hope  for  the  best!  Look  at  that 
moouriso,  mademoiselle — I  have  heard  you  wcro  an 
artist." 

"Who  told  you  so?" 

"  Monsieur  D'Arvillc — ho  is  a  great  friend  of  yours." 

Eve's  face  flushed. 

"  lie  was  my  tcaclier — at  least,  he  would  have  been, 
had  we  not  loft  Canada.     I  wisli  I  were  an  artist." 

"I  wish  you  were  ;  you  might  immortalize  yourself 
to-night.     Do  you  caro  for  the  sea  ?" 

"  Caro  is  not  the  word,  monsieur — I  love  it." 

"Ah  !  then  wc  can  sympathize.  I  have  spent  half 
the  last  fifteen  years  roving  over  land  and  sea.  One  of 
those  rolling  stones  that  gather  no  moss." 

"  Then  Madame  Rumor  tells  fibs.  She  says  Senor 
Mendcz  is  a  prince  in  his  own  land." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  the  Creole,  coolly.  "  I  believe  my 
estates  in  Cuba  arc  rather  princely  than  otherwise  ;  but 
I  don't  allude  to  that.  I  have  no  home,  and  no  home- 
ties  :  a  crusty  old  bachelor,  who  goeth  whithersoever 
he  listeth,  with  no  kindly  voice  to  bid  him  God-speed  at 
his  departure  or  welcome  on  his  return." 

They  were  both  silent,  he  looking  straight  before 


HAZEL  WOOD    HALL. 


257 


him  at  the  red  moonrisc,  and  tlie  girl  watching,  under 
her  eyelashes,  the  bronzed,  handsome  face,  and  the 
silver  threads  gleaming  in  and  out  the  raven  hi  ir. 

"  Monsieur  has  been  a  great  traveler,  then  ?"  she 
said  at  length,  in  a  subdued  tone. 

"  Over  the  world,  mademoiselle,  from  Dan  to 
Beershcl)a.  I  have  ridden  camels  in  Egypt,  smoked 
cigars  under  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  slept  in  skins  in  an 
Esquimaux  hut,  and  been  grilled  alive  in  the  jungles  of 
India  and  the  forests  of  Africa.  As  for  Europe — I 
think  there  is  not  a  village  in  the  whole  continent  I 
have  not  done,  and  found  the  whole  thing  an  insuffer- 
able bore." 

"And  you  have  Ijecn— but  why  need  I  ask — ot 
course,  you  have  been  in  England  ?" 

"  Yes,  r^jiuomoiocUe  ;  I  have  explored  that  island — I 
have  even  beheld  Hazel  wood  Ilall." 

** Indeed  !"  Eve  ^ried,  vividly  interested.  "I  should 
like  to  hear  about  that.     It  is  long  ago  ?" 

"Some  five  years.  It  is  a  fine  old  place,  or  would  be 
in  the  haiuhs  of  any  other  man  than  the  Honorable  Ar- 
thur Ilazelwood.     But  pardon — he  is  your  relative  ?" 

"  I  icnow  nothing  about  him  ;  I  never  saw  him  in  my 
life.     Is  he  a  manvais  sujct,  then  F" 


258 


II A  ZEL  WO  OD    HA  LL. 


"  He  is — but  I  shall  tell  you  nothing  about  him — you 
must  read  him  for  your.sclf.  I  fear  you  Avill  find  your 
new  liome  rather  lonely — the  owner  of  llazchvood  Hall 
receives  no  visitors,  and  never  goes  out." 

"A  recluse,  is  he  !    Did  you  sec  Miss  Forest  ?" 

"The  pale  lady  with  tlic  light  hair,  who  keeps 
house  for  him?  Oh  j-es,  I  t-aw  her;  she  never  goes 
out  cither — they  grow  old  there,  like  potatoes  in  a 
cellar." 

"And  the  place  around — what  is  it  ? — a  town,  a  vil- 
lage, a  wilderness — or  what  ?" 

"A  village,  very  pretty,  very  picturesque.  They  call 
it  Monkswood." 

"And   Jlazelwood   Ilall  is  the  place  of  the  place  ?" 

"  By  no  means.  It  is  eclipsed  altogether  by  another 
])laco,  some  seven  miles  off,  far  older,  far  grander,  and 
far  more  revered.  Its  name  is  Blaekmonks — Black- 
monks  Priory — audits  own(>r  is  Lord  Landsdownc." 

"Oh!  and  the  village  has  taken  its  name  from  the 


priory 


V" 


"Exactly.  Long  ago,  when  Mary  Avas  queen  in 
England,  this  priory  of  Blaekmonks  was  founded  there, 
under  her  i)atronage.  When  Elizabeth  came  into  power, 
the  monks  were  sent  adrift,  and  Baron  Liindsdowne,  a 


UAZELWOOD    HALL. 


J59 


sturdy  old  warrior,  whose  portrait  still  adorns  the  grand 
entrance-hall,  took  this  place.  It  has  been  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  Landsdowncs  ever  since,  and  is  likely  to  be 
while  the  race  lasts." 

"Is  the  present  Lord  Landsdowne  resident  at  the 


priory 


?» 


"Not  when  I  was  tlicro — he  was  on  the  continent 
with  his  lady.  lie  must  iiavo  Ijcen  a  fine  fellow,  for  he 
was  idolized  in  the  place.  I  think  you  would  like 
Bhickmonks ;  it  is  quite  magnificent  in  its  ancient 
grandeur,  I  assure  you.  ILizclwood  dwindles  into  no- 
thing beside  it." 

"  And  Mr.  Ilazelwood  is  not  liked  in  Monkswood  ?'' 

"  Wliy,  tlio  fact  is,  mademoiselle,  lie  is  looked  upon 
as  a  good  deal  of  a  stranger,  and  considerable  of  an 
intruder.  lie  is  a  Yanlcce,  too— 1  l)eg  your  pardon," 
seeing  her  flush  hotly;  "and,  in  short,  there  is  no  love 
lost  between  them.  Perhaps  it  may  be  different  now — 
I  will  liud  out  when  I  go  there." 

"  Arc  3'ou  going  there  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  business  in  Essex.  Well,  sir,  what  do 
you  want  ?" 

This  last  Avas  addressed  to  one  of  the  cabin-waiters 
who  a])proached  them.     The  man  wanted  Miss  llazci- 


260 


UAZELWOOD    HALL. 


wood — tlio  sick  yonng  Itidy  in  No.  35  had  sent  him  in 
search  of  her  ;  and  Evo  had  to  go. 

Tliat  evening's  conversation  Avas  but  the  beginning 
of  many.  Senor  Mondez  was  cheering — ho  beguiled  the 
long  hours  for  her  with  wonderful  stories  of  his  adven- 
tures in  India,  Africa,  China,  and  tlio  Holy  Land — 
Eve  thought  the  Thousand  and  One  were  nothing  to 
him.  Then,  too,  after  the  first  Avock,  D'Arville  was 
able  to  come  up,  a  little  wan  and  spectral  at  first,  after 
his  sickness — but  Eve  blushed  frankly  at  seeing  him, 
and  held  out  her  hand  witli  a  shy  grace,  that  might 
have  bewitched  old  Diogenes  himself. 

Very  pleasant  to  !Mis3  Evangeline  Ilazelwood  was  the 
voyage  after  that ;  at  least,  the  hours  spent  on  deck  ;  for 
Hazel  kept  sick  still,  and  was  cross  and  querulous,  and 
monopolized  Evo  half  the  time.  And  Eve,  being  good- 
natured  and  kind-hearted,  and  very  fond  of  the  impa- 
tient little  invalid,  read  to  her,  and  sang  to  her,  and 
retailed  Senor  Mcndez's  stories,  and  brought  daily  little 
messes  to  tempt  the  fiagging  appetite.  Doctor  Lance, 
being  as  poor  a  sailor  as  his  elder  ward,  was  invisible 
also ;  and  thougli  Paul  SchalTor  made  his  appearance  on 
deck.  Eve  was  very  little  troubled  with  him.  Once, 
finding  her  alone,  he  had  attempted  to  accost  her  with 


HAZELWOOD    HALL. 


261 


his  customary  cool  nonchalance,  but  La  Princessc  had 
drawn  back  and  up,  with  eyes  that  flashed  black  flames, 
and  had  swept  past  him  in  such  superb,  silent  scorn,  that 
even  he  never  attempted  it  again.  Eve  had  not  seen  the 
ominous  smile  with  which  he  looked  after  her,  nor  heard 
his  half-muttered  words : 

"My  bird  of  Paradise  sails  high,  but  I  think  I  will 
clip  her  glittering  wings  before  long.  La  Princesse 
reigns  it  right  royally,  but  I  think  I  will  humble  her 
pride  before  she  is  many  weeks  older.  Be  as  scornful  as 
you  like,  my  dear  Eve — smile  as  sweetly  as  you  please 
on  Monsieur  D'Arville — we  will  change  your  tune  when 
you  are  Madame  Schaffer  ;  for  Madame  Schaffer  you 
will  be,  in  spite  of  earth  and  all  it  contains  !" 

From  that  time  until  the  and  of  the  voyage  Monsieur 
Schaffer  never  attempted  to  address  Eve  when  alone ; 
but  when  others  were  with  her,  and  she  could  not,  with- 
out exciting  remark,  liclp  answering  him,  he  was  ever 
near,  in  spite  of  brightly  angry  glances,  forcing  answers 
from  her  reluctant  lips. 

When  they  entered  the  railway-carriage,  at  Southamp- 
ton, it  was  ho  who  handed  her  in,  leaving  Miss  Uazel, 
who  had  a  sick  and  sea-green  look,  still  to  the  care  of 
D'Arville.     lie  sat  beside  her,  too,  all  the  way  ;  for  he 


262 


HAZELWOOD    HALL. 


was  going  to  Essex  first ;  he  might  as  well  trarcl  with 
company  while  ho  could,  he  said  ;  and  his  proiimity 
spoiled  the  Journey  for  the  young  lady. 

D'Arville  devoted  himself  to  Hazel,  who  looked 
worried  and  jealous  ;  and  Doctor  Lance  was  <le»:-p  in 
discussion  with  Senor  Mendez  on  some  new  sclenEific 
discovery. 

Eve  was  heartily  glad  when,  in  the  golden  sunset  of 
an  August  evening,  they  rattled  up  to  the  t^rminms,  and 
she  saw  the  word,  "  Monkswood "  painted  above  the 
little  station. 

"You  come  with  me,  I  presume,  monsieur?"  Senor 
Mendez  said,  leaning  forward,  and  speaking  to  Mr. 
Schaffer. 

"  Of  course.  Wo  are  fellow-voyagers  in  our  pilgrim- 
age through  this,  to  me,  unknown  laud.  Is  there  a 
hotel  in  this  one-horse  village  ?" 

"There  is  an  inn — a  chef  cTceuvre  in  its  w2t,  I 
assure  you.  You  had  better  take  this  fly,  Doclor  Lance 
— Miss  Wood  looks  fit  to  die  of  fatigue." 

"  My  poor  Hazel  !  You  do  look  terribly  usel  up," 
laughed  Paul,  "  while  Miss  Eve's  roses  are  slill  un- 
wilted.  Adieu,  ladies  !  Doctor,  will  we  be  allowed  to 
go  up  to  the  hall  and  pay  our  respects  ?" 


HAZEL  WOOD    HALL 


203 


"I  know  nothing  about  it,"  snarled  the  doctor, 
whoso  temper  was  not  improved  by  the  diacomforts  of 
traveling.     "Here,  you  girls  !  pile  in,  and  let's  be  oil." 

The  two  gentlemen,  left  behind,  took  off  their  hats 
to  the  young  ladies  as  the  fly  drove  away,  and  then  set 
off  for  their  inn. 

"A  pretty  place,  this  English  village — is  it  not, 
mademoiselle  ?"  D'Arville  said,  speaking  to  Eve. 

"  Oil,  it  is  charming  !  These  gardens  and  cottages, 
and  queer  old  houses  and  churches,  and  there — what 
place  is  that  ?" 

"Blacknionk's  Priory,"  said  Doctor  Lance,  just 
glancing  at  a  great  park  a  they  rattled  by.  "  We  have 
no  time  for  stopping  to  stare  now.  You'll  see  enough 
of  it  before  you  leave  hero,  I'll  warrant  you." 

They  left  the  village  behind  and  drove  along  a  lovely 
country  road,  where  the  houses  were  few  and  far  be- 
tween, and  Eve  began  to  look  out  for  Ilazelwood 
Hall. 

They  soon  reached  it;  two  great  gates  swung  back 
to  admit  them,  and  they  drove  through  the  amber  haze 
of  sunset  up  a  winding  avenue  to  a  great  gloomy-look- 
ing old  house,  silent  and  lonely  as  a  tomb. 

"  What  a  dismal  old  bam  !"   said  Hazel,  fretfully. 


264 


HAZELWOOD    HALL. 


"And  this  is  Hazel  wood  TIall  I  I  wish  I  was  back  in 
New  York  !  I  am  sick  of  England  already  !" 

A  servant  out  of  livery — a  solemn-looking  old  man 
— opened  the  door,  and  stared  aghast  at  the  party.  Ho 
admitted  them,  however,  answering  Doctor  Lance's  shai'p 
questions  as  he  did  so. 

"Yea  !  master  was  at  home,  but  ill  and  confined  to 
bis  room;  and  Miss  Forest,  she  was  in  London,  and 
"would  not  be  back  until  next  day.  He  would  take  the 
the  doctor's  card,  however,  and  see  if  he  could  be  re- 
ceived ;  meantime,  would  they  be  pleased  to  wait 
here  ?" 

Eve  scarcely  knew  whether  to  laugh  or  cry,  as  he 
ushered  them  into  into  a  dark,  and  grand,  and  gloomy 
reception  room — it  was  all  so  different  from  what  she 
had  anticipated. 

"I  wish  I  was  back  in  Now  York — I  do  !"  Hazel 
reiterated  drearily.  "I  shall  die  in  this  horrid  place — 
I  know  I  shall  !  " 

The  sober  old  servant  was  back  directly.  "  Mastef 
would  receive  the  gentlemen  in  his  room,  and  one  of 
the  chambermaids,  in  the  absence  of  Miss  Forest,  would 
attend  to  the  young  ladies." 

The  chambermaid,  a  very  spruce  young  lady,  en- 


HAZELWOOn    HALL. 


2G5 


tercd  while  lie  was  speaking,  and  respectfully  prof- 
fered to  lead  them  to  their  rooms,  which  were  ready  and 
waiting. 

Eve  east  a  halManghing,  half-dismayed,  wholly- 
bewitching  glance  black  at  D'Arwille,  and  tripped, 
from  the  room  up  a  grand  stair-case,  slippery  as 
glass,  down  a  long  hall,  and  into  a  chamber  in  the 
same  large,  somber  and  grand  stylo  at  the  rest  of  the 
house.  Hazel's  was  adjoining  ;  but  Hazel  declared 
nothing  earthly  would  induce  her  to  pass  the  night  alone 
in  such  a  place,  and  dispatched  the  girl  for  refreshments, 
with  information  that  she  and  her  cousin  would  be 
room-mates, 

"And  now  I'm  going  to  bed,"' said  Ilazei,  after  the 
tea  and  toast  had  vanished;  "for  I  feel  as  tliough  I 
could  sleep  a  week  !    Will  you  come  ?" 

**  No,"  said  Eve,  taking  up  her  hat;  "I  am  going 
out  to  have  a  look  at  the  grounds.  It  is  a  great  deal  too 
early  for  bed.     I  wonder  if  I  can  find  my  way  out  ?" 

She  did  find  her  way  out,  somehow,  and  wandered 
down  to  the  great  gates,  standing  wide  open.  To  her 
surprise,  she  found  no  less  a  personage  than  Senor  Men- 
dez  there  before  her,  talking  to  the  porter,  and  smoking 


a  cigar. 


13 


260 


UAZELWOOD    HALL. 


"You  hero?"  Evo  cried,  in  her  astonishment.  "I 
thought  you  li.id  gone  to  the  iuu  ?" 

"Sol  did  ;  but  I  rodo  up  liero  afterward  ;  tiiere  is 
my  horso  yonder,       tow  do  you  like  your  r\c\v  home  ?" 

Eve  did  not  immediately  reply.  A  carriage  was 
passing — a  very  grand  affair — drawn  by  two  superb  grays 
in  silver  harness,  and  from  the  window  a  face  was  look- 
ing out  at  them,  as  it  rolled  slowly  by. 

A  lady's  face,  handsome  and  haughty,  glancing  out 
for  an  instant,  and  then  disappearing. 

Eve  turned  to  reply  to  the  gentleman's  question,  but 
stopped  again. 

What  ailed  Senor  Mendez  ?  Ilis  face  had  turned  as 
white  as  a  dead  man's,  and  his  eyes  were  strained,  as  if 
they  would  start  from  his  head,  after  the  carriage,  van- 
ishing in  a  cloud  of  dust. 

** Monsieur  !"  Eve  cried  out,  in  alarm,  "you  arc  ill !" 

Her  voice  aroused  liim.  Ho  turned  to  her,  but,  in 
spite  of  all  his  efforts,  it  was  nearly  a  minute  before  he 
could  speak. 

"It  is  nothing — a  heavy  spasm — quite  gone  now. 
My  friend  "  (to  the  gate-keeper),  "  whose  carriage  ?" 

"  Lady  Landsdowne's,  sir,"  the  man  said  ;  "  and  that 
was  my  lady,  herself,  a  looking  out  of  the  window." 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


267 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


TWO  OLD  FRIENDS. 


riROUGTI  long  corridors,  wainscotted  rooms, 
lofty  iind  large,  up  sweeping  staircases,  and 
into  galleries  and  gloomy  drawing-rooms, 
where  the  furniture  was  black  with  ago,  and  grim  old 
ancestors  and  ancestresses  frowned  down  from  oak  pan- 
els. Eve  and  Hazel  went  the  morning  after  their  arrival 
in  Hazel  wood  Hall.  An  old  butler  as  antique  and  gloomy 
as  anything  ho  showed  them,  was  their  cicerone ;  and 
looking  upon  two  young  ladies  in  that  house,  where 
young  ladies  had  never  been  before,  time  of  mind,  very 
much  in  the  light  of  interlopers,  ho  vouchsafed  them  as 
little  information  as  possible  about  what  they  saw. 
Monsieur  D'Arville  was  closeted  with  the  invisible  mas- 
ter of  the  mansion,  and  had  suggested  the  idea  at  break- 
fast, to  kill  time  until  he  should  bo  released. 

"  A  horrid  old  barn  as  ever  I  saw !''  was  Hazel's 
displeased  criticism,  looking  round  the  dim  old  saloon. 
"I  wish  I  was  back  in  New  York  ;  the  Tombs,  there, 
was  a  palace  compared  to  it  1    What  do  you  call  that  old 


268 


TWO    OLD    FRIENDS. 


chap,  up  there,  in  tlie  white,  woolly  wig,  and  all  those 
ridiculous  ruffles,  mister  ?" 

"That  is  the  portrait  of  the  late  Judge  Ilazclwood, 
miss,"  answered  tlie  old  butler,  with  slow  dignity. 

"And  that  other  scarecrow,  beside  him,  with  the 
waist  of  her  dress  under  her  arms,  and  sleeves  like 
two  bolsters — who  is  she  ?  Mrs.  Judge  Hazelwood,  I 
suppose  ?" 

"It  is,  miss." 

"Did  you  ever  see  such  looking  shapes,  Eve?  I 
say,  thougli,  arc  wo  near  done  sight-seeing  ?  They 
ought  to  have  horse-cars,  or  somctiiing,  to  run  through 
this  house — I'm  just  dragged  off  my  feet  traveling  ! 
The  Ramble  in  the  Central  Park  was  plain  sailing  com- 
pared to  it  1" 

"  Hazel,  don't  be  so  innocent,"  said  Eve,  barely  able 
to  keep  from  laughing  at  the  shocked  and  scandalized 
face  of  the  ancient  servitor  ;  "  it's  a  dear,  romantic  old 
place,  and  I'm  in  love  with  it  already." 

"  Yes  ;  you  always  had  outlandish  tastes,  I  know," 
said  Hazel,  discontentedly;  "but  when  we're  both  laid 
up  with  rheumatism,  and  fever  and  ague,  and  consump- 
tion, and  lots  of  other  harms  that  we'll  be  sure  to  catch 
in  this  damp,  musty  vault,  you'll  sing  a  different  tune, 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


269 


I  dare  s!iy.  Oh,  I  wish  I  was  back  in  New  York  1 
oven  i\\o  2'>cniiionnat  was  a  king  to  this  !  Here  wc  arc  in 
the  blessed  snnshine  again,  Dicu  merci!" 

They  had  readied  the  grand  entrance-hull,  where  the 
old  butler  bowed  and  left  them,  shocked  out  of  a  year's 
growth. 

"  I  wonder  when  we  are  to  bo  admitted  to  the  throne 
of  the  Grand  Mogul,  Hazel,"  laughed  Eve;  "he  is  as 
mysterious  as  Mokanna  himself  I" 

"  Who  was  ^lokanna  ?  I  don't  care  about  the  Grand 
Mogul ;  but  I  do  wish  Paul  would  come  up  to-day  ! 
Do  you  suppose  ho  will  ?'' 

*'  I  don't  know ;  and  with  due  reverence  to  you — 
don't  care." 

"Oh,  of  course  not!  but  if  Senor  Mendez  was  in 
question,  perhaps  you  might.  Paul  says,  the  way  you 
flirted  with  that  gay  and  festive  old  scamp  on  shipboard 
was  shameful !" 

Eve's  eyes  began  to  flash. 

"  Hazel  ?  did  Paul  Schailcr  dare  to  say  that  ?» 

"Dare!  Oh,  you  have  not  done  acting  the  r<5?e  of 
La  Princcsse  yet,  I  see  !  Tell  your  old  beau.  Eve,  to 
dye  his  hair  before  ho  proposes;  it's  getting  frosty, 
rather !    There,   you    needn't    fire  up  now ;    Pm  not 


m 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


going  to  fight  this  morning,  because  you're  the  only 
living  Christian  I've  got  to  talk  to,  unci  bud  company  is 
better  tlitui  none  !  I  wish  Monsieur  D'Arville  would 
come  back,  if  the  Grand  Mogul  hasn't  had  him  be- 
headed." 

*'  Quand  un  parle  du —  be  careful  what  you  say, 
mademoiselle  !"  said  D'Arille  himself,  sauntering  in, 
"Iconic  from  the  Grand  Mogul  witli  his  Serenity's 
orders  for  you  two  young  ladies  to  appear  at  once  before 
him!  lam  to  lead  you  to  the  presence-chamber;  so 
come." 

Ilis  dark  eyes  were  laughing  while  he  spoke^  though 
his  face  was  serious,  and  he  offered  an  arm  to  each,  to 
lead  them  forth. 

"Is  it  going  to  be  very  terrible  ?"  Eve  asked,  as 
they  went  up-stairs. 

"Very  1  Summon  all  your  moral  courage,  and  I  will 
wait  at  the  door.  If  j^ou  faint,  give  mo  notice  before- 
hand, and  I  will  fly  to  your  aid." 

"  Well,  I'm  pretty  curious,"  said  Hazel,  "  but  I  ain't 
scared  to  speak  of  !  Is  this  the  place  ?  Wait  for  us 
outside,  monsieur." 

Monsieur  bowed  and  rapped.  The  door  was  opened 
at  once  by  a  natty  little  valet — French,  you  could  see  at 


TWO     OLD     FRIENDS. 


271 


a  glance.  Monsieur  D'Arvillo  rctroatctl,  the  yonng 
ladies  advanced,  tlie  vtilet  closed  the  door  and  vanished, 
and  they  were  in  the  presence  of  the  Grand  Mogul ! 

Stretched  at  full  length  on  a  lounge,  and  half  buried 
in  its  downy  pillows,  lay  an  iinmeusely-stout  gentleman, 
smoking  a  meerschaum  pipe.  He  wore  a  dressing-gown, 
and  botli  his  f^'ct  were  swat IkmI  in  rolls  of  ilannel — Mr. 
llazfl'.vood  was  suffering  from  the  g(jut.  A  dumb- 
waiter, with  the  remnants  of  an  ei)icureari  breakfast 
littered  over  it,  stood  near  him  ;  and  lying  there,  ho 
looked  the  very  picture  of  sensuous,  selfish,  indolent 
comfort.  His  room  was  the  most  elegant  in  the  house  ; 
its  pale-green  walls  lined  with  exipiisile  pictures. 
Nothing  remained  of  the  Arthur  Hazelwood  of  other 
days  but  his  selllshness,  his  indolence,  and  a  remnant  of 
his  artist  tastes.  He  turned  his  eyes  listlessly  toward 
them,  and  held  out  one  langnid  hand. 

"Ah!  you've  come,  have  you?  How  d'ye  do? 
Hai)])y  to  see  you  both  !    Find  seats  and  sit  down." 

Tije  young  ladies  did  so.  Eve's  sense  of  the  ludi- 
crous was  too  strong  to  permit  her  to  look  at  Hazel,  lest 
she  sliuiihl  laugli  outright  at  this  enthusiastic  greeting, 
but  she  felt  that  Hazel's  face  was  a  picture  to  see,  as 
she  stared  at  the  pulpy  figure  prostrate  before  her. 


273 


TWO     OLD     FUnc^DS. 


Ah  I"  s;ii(l  ^Ir,  JLizelwooJ.  clnuvliiiG:  out  his  words, 


and   sinokinsf   away, 


idiich  of   you  is   liLllo   Ila/ol 


Yon,  I  presume 


V" 


^Xo, 


■sir, 


;iid  Eve,  to  whom  this  was  adih'cssed. 


"  this  is  IlazL'l— I 


im  Eve 


"  Ah  !  and  a  very  pretty  Eve  you  arc — very  pretty, 
indeed  I     The  other  Avas  stolen,  wasn't  she  ? 

"  Do  you  mean   uiy  tu'iu  sister,  sir  ?"   said   E\e,  to 


a  V 


les 


whom  some  part  of  her  own  story  was  familiar 

I  believe  she  was  stolen  when  an  infant,  and  never  found 


since. 


"Ah!  very  droll — very.     And  you  are  little  TIazel, 
eh?     iS"ot  very  largo  yet,  either — and  plump  as  a  part- 


ric.ffo. 


"There's  a  pair  of  us,  sir,"  retorted  Hazel,  pertly, 
nettled  at  this  last  insinuation,  which  was  touching  her 
feelings  in  a  very  tender  ])oint. 

"Eh?"  in(|nired  ^h\  llazelwood,  feebly  staring; 
"well,  1  hope  you'll  enjoy  yourselves  here,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thinsf.     Una  will  be  back  l)v-and-bv,  and  (hen  it 


V 


will  be  pleasanter  for  you.     Jerome 

The  dapper  valet  appi'arcd  as  suddenly  as  if  ho  had 
risen   from  the   earth,  and  stood  making  ffcnuilectious 


o    to"- 


before  the  lord  of  llazelwood  Hall. 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


978 


"Show  those  young  hidics  out  c'lnd  fetch  me  some 
brandy  and  Avatcr,  hot.     AIi !  good  morning  !" 

Monsieur  Jerome,  smiling  blandly,  turned  them  both 
out  of  doors,  and  the  interview  was  at  an  end.  D'Ar- 
vilk,  looking  out  of  a  window  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
hall,  advanced  to  meet  them. 

"Well,"  ho  inquired,  "and  how  do  you  like  the 
Grand  Mogul,  mesdemoisellcs  ?" 

"Don't  ask  me — don't!"  cried  ILizel,  her  lips  com- 
pressed, her  eyes  flashing.  "  I  feel  as  though  I  should 
burst!  Is  it  Bluebeard?  Is  it  Henry  the  Eighth? 
What  s<n't  of  monster  is  it  shut  up  there  ?  Oh  I  if  I  was 
only  back  in  New  York,  I  wish  thorn  joy  of  their  eye- 
sight that  would  catch  me  here  again  !" 

Eve  went  oS  into  an  irrepressible  lit  of  laughter  at 
the  recollections  of  the  scene,  and  D'Arville's  dark  face 
lighted  up  with  a  smile. 

"It  won't  do  to  live  in  Eomo  and  fight  with  the 
Pope,  ati  old  jiroverb  says.  You  must  keep  a  civil 
tongue  in  your  head,  Miss  Hazel.  Do  you  know  there 
has  been  an  arrival  within  the  last  ten  minutes  ?" 

"No  !_Who?— Not  Paul— I  nu'an  Mr.  Schaflcr  ?" 

"No;  a  lady.     IShc  drove  up  in  a  lly,   and  passed 

tliTough  here.     It  is  Miss  Forest,  I  presume." 
12* 


274 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


*' 0,  slu;  lias  como,  tlicn  !"  exclaimed  Hazel,  a,  little 
disappointed.  *'  What  does  she  look  like  ? — another 
Leviathan  ?" 

"!N"ot  at  all !  A  pale  little  woman,  pretty  and  lady- 
like.    I  only  saw  her  for  an  instant,  but — " 

Ho  stopped  short  at  a  sudden  motion  of  Eve.  "A 
pale  little  woman,  pretty  and  lady-like,"  had  entered 
the  hall  while  he  was  speaking;  her  bonnet  and  shawl 
doffed  already,  her  ilaxcn  hair  combed  very  smoothly 
away  from  her  fair,  colorless  face  ;  her  light-blue  eyes, 
as  quiet  and  cloudless  as  of  yore,  her  steps  as  noiseless, 
her  looks  almost  as  young.  Old  Time,  furrowing  wrink- 
les, and  thinning  locks,  and  planting  crow's  feet,  had 
been  merciful  to  her.  The  white  skin  was  unfurrowed, 
the  flaxen  hair  as  thick,  the  form  as  lithe  as  fifteen  years 
before,  and  Una  Forest  at  thirty  was  a  very  prepossess- 
ing little  person,  indeed.  She  floated  forward  now  in  a 
dress  of  gray  silk  prettily  made  and  trimmed,  a  ^-milri 
on  her  pale  thin  lips,  and  u  hand  extended  to  .  ^u  of 
the  girls. 

"At  last !"  she  said,  in  tlie  soft,  sweet  voice  of  old, 
touching  first  the  cheek  of  Y^\q,  then  of  Hazel,  "wel- 
come to  England  and  to  HazL'hvood  Hall !" 

"Thank  you,"  Evo  said,   a  little  timidly,    while 


T^YO     OLD    FUTEXDS. 


275 


Ilazcl  stared  ut  lior  in  silence.  "  You  are  Miss  Forest, 
of  course  ?" 

"Yes,  my  dear  ;  and  you  are  the  little  baby  Evange- 
line, I  left  New  York  over  fifteen  years  ago,  grown  out 
of  all  knowledge.  And  this  is  three-year-old  Hazel, 
who  used  to  torment  me  so,  looking  the  younger  of  the 
two.     And  this  gentleman  ?" — 

She  paused,  looking  composedly  at  D'Arville,  who 
stood  in  the  background.  He  stepped  forward,  on 
hearing  himself  invited,  Avith  an  ea.-;y  bow — his  com- 
posure as  matchless  as  her  own. 

"I  am  Mr.  Il.izolwood's  secretary,  madam.  My 
name  is  D'Arville." 

Miss  Forest  bent  her  fair  little  head  in  silent  greet- 
ing, and  turned  once  more  to  look  at  Eve. 

"How  very  tall  you  have  grown,  my  dear,  and  how 
much  older  than  your  age  you  look  I  Your  voyage  does 
not  seem  to  have  affected  either  of  you  much  ;  were  y  )u 
sick  ?" 

"  Hazel  was  ;  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  escape." 

"  Ah,  you  may  well  call  it  good  fortune  I  I  know 
what  sea-sickness  is  !     Was  the  voyage  pleasant  ?" 

"  Very !  Wo  had  a  number  of  friends  on  board, 
and  tlic  time  went  like  nia^ic." 


270 


TWO     OLD    FlilEXDS. 


"Speukfor  yourself,"  cut  in  Miss  Hazel.  ''Idare 
say,  it  went  like  nuigie  for  you  and  your  old  Snaaiili 
beau,  but  I  could  tell  ii  dilferent  stovy — pejit  np  m  a 
stew-tub  of  a  state-room.  Tliore  wasn't  an  boar  fixi>m 
wc  started  till  we  landed  I  didn't  wisb  migljt  be  oor 
last,  if  only  for  spite  to  see  Ibe  way  you  acted:  and  I 
used  to  pray  fervently  the  steamer  might  ran  iat«>  a 
rock  or  a  mermaid,  or  something,  and  pilch  bead  first  to 
Davy  Jones,  and  so  end  it  all !" 

Miss  Forest's  light-blue  eyes  and  smiling  face  were 
turned  on  the  spirited  speaker  of  this  reckless  avo'sral, 
studying  her  as  she  bad  been  studying  Eve. 

"You  have  not  changed,  T  see,  my  dear;  tbi-' Hazel 
of  three  yi  i  -  lives  yet  in  the  Ilazrl  of  eigbti-eia.  Aa>i 
now,  where  is  Dr.  Lance  ?    Is  be  with  Mr.  Hazelw-xxl  'f* 

*'Uo  has  gone  back,"  said  Eve.  *•  lie  went  W  the 
express  last  night  to  Tiondon,  and  starts  in  tliv  next 
steamer  for  New  York." 

"A  flying  visit  I  I  sliould  like  to  have  seen  bim. 
Have  you  been  through  tlie  house  ?" 

*'  Ob  yes,"  said  Hazel,  "  we've  been  through  it.  and, 
except  the  prison  up  in  Sing  Sing,  that  they  took  me 
to  see  once,  I  never  went  through  a  more  gbotily  pldce. 
Isn't  it  full  of  ghosts  ?" 


TWO     OLD     FRIENDS. 


877 


Miss  Forest's  eyes  and  smile  were  on  Hazel  agiiin. 
Eve  looked  nearly  as  shocked  as  the  old  butler  had  done, 
and  D'Arvillo  intensely  amused. 

'  I  really  don't  know.     I  never  saw  any." 

"  Well,  it  must  be  full  of  rats  anyhow,  and  they're 
as  bad,  if  not  wor.se.  They'd  no  more  keep  such  an  old 
rat-trap  as  this  standing  in  Xew  York —  0  Eve  !  here 
is  Paul  and  Scnor  Mendcz  I     I  declare  if  they're  not." 

Hiizel  sped  off  down  stairs  in  an  ecstasy.  Eve  looked 
out  of  the  window,  and  saw  the  two  gentlemen  in  ques- 
tion just  going  up  the  steps  leading  to  the  front  door. 

"  Erieuds  of  yours  ?"  Miss  Forest  inquired,  looking 
in  calm  surprise  on  Eve.  *'  I  did  not  know  you  had 
any  in  the  village." 

"  Wo  knew  them  in  Canada,"  Eve  answered,  coloring 
suddenly,  and  the  two  looking  at  her  wondered  inwardly 
for  which  of  them  the  blush  was  for.  "  I  suppose  I 
must  go  down." 

*'  Of  course,  and  I  must  go  and  see  about  my  house- 
hold affairs.  I  came  here  direetlv,,  on  arriving.  Fare- 
well — Innoheon-hour  is  at  two  ;  at  six  we  dine." 

She  bowed  in  her  easy,  graceful  way  and  left  them. 
Eve,  her  face  still  hot,  spoke  to  D'Arvillo  without 
looking  at  him. 


278 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


*'  Are  you  Goining  down,  monsieur  ?  Tlicy  will  want 
to  see  you." 

"  Do  you  tliiuk  so  ?''  lie  said  meaningly. 

"  Of  course.     Come  !" 

"She  led  the  way  down-stairs  without  waiting,  and 
D'Arvillo  followed  her.  In  the  grand  and  gloomy  draw- 
ing-room they  found  Hazel  chatting  away  like  a  magpie 
to  the  gentlemen.  She  was  painting  their  portraits  in 
vivid  colors,  and  her  auditors  wore  laughing  faces,  but 
both  turned  eagerly  to  the  door  when  Eve  entered.  She 
gave  her  hand  frankly  and  cordially  to  Senor  Meudcz, 
but  she  first  touched  Mr.  Schaffor's  extended  digit,  as  if 
it  had  been  red-hot,  and  dropped  it  again. 

"You  see  wo  have  found  our  way  to  Ilazelwood 
Hall,"  Schaffcr  said.  "Aiiue  old  place,  but  nothing 
to  Black  Monk's  Priory.  Senor  Mendez  and  I  were  over 
there  this  morning." 

"  That's  great  praise,  to  say  it's  nicer  than  this," 
said  Hazel,  contemptuously.  "  It's  another  old  vault, 
I  sup])oso.  Oh,  give  me  a  brown  stone  front  on  Fifth 
avenue,  and  you  have  my  idea  of  heaven  on  earth  at 
once." 

"  You  shall  have  it  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Schailcr,  in  a 
voice  audible  only  to  her,  "  when  you  and  I  go  back  to 


i 


TWO     OLD    FlilENDS. 


279 


New  York  to;^cthcr.  You  ouglit  to  see  it,  Mi.-.-:  Hazel- 
wood,"  raising  liis  tone.  ''Hazel  might  not  fancy  it, 
but  I  am  sure  you  would." 

"  She  saw  Lady  Landsdowne  last  night,  and  fancied 
licr  excessively.  Did  you  not,  Miss  Eve  ?"  asked  Senor 
Mendoz. 

*'  I  told  you  I  thought  her  a  most  beautiful  woman, 
and,"  rather  mischievously,  "I  think  she  ullccted  your- 
self, senor,  even  more  than  I,  for  you  turned  as  white 
as  that  marble  bust  up  there  at  sight  of  her  !" 

"  Was  it  at  sight  of  her  ?"  said  Senor  Mendez,  coolly. 
"I  thought  I  told  you  it  was  a  spasm." 

"Oh  yes,  yoil  told  me  tliat,  of  course;  but  I  know 
you  Avatehed  the  carriage  out  of  sight,  and  inquired  very 
particularly  about  her  from  the  lodge-keeper.  Is  the 
Priory  shoAvn  to  visitors  ?" 

"  Not  when  the  family  are  at  home,  as  now,"  said 
Mr.  Schall'er.  "  I  was  disappointed  in  my  hopes  of 
going  through  it  to-day,  and  I  hope  the  family  may 
make  tlicir  exodus  soon,  for  my  benefit.  We  saAV  the 
grounds,  though,  and  the  exterior  of  the  mansion,  and 
very  magnificent  both  are.  What  is  more,  we  saw  Lord 
Landsdowne,  though  I  should  have  preferred  seeing  his 
lady." 


230 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


"  And  is  bo  as  lovely  to  look  at  us  slio  seems  to  bo  ?" 
iuquired  ILizel. 

"  No,  bo  is  not  wbat  you  girls  would  call  bandsomo  ; 
bo  is  tall  and  stately,  gontlemanly,  and  ratber  distin- 
guisbcd  looking,  grave  and  niiddlo-agcd." 

''Grave!''  said  tlic  Cuban.  "I  sbould  say  sol 
His  face  is  tbat  of  a  man's  wbose  life  bas  been  a  great 
mistake." 

"Do  you  judge  from  faces?"  asked  D'Arville, 
speaking  for  tbc  first  time.  "  If  so,  I  sbould  like  you 
to  see  tbe  mistress  of  tliis  establisbment,  and  read  me 
her  cbaracter.  I  bave  been  puzzling  over  it  over  since  I 
saw  ber." 

"  Is  sbe  a  study,  then  ?" 

"  Is  sbo  pretty — tbat's  tbe  question  ?"  interrupted 
Paul  Scliaffer.  "  A  pretty  Avoraan  never  can  bo  very 
disagreeable."         ' 

Senor  Mcndez  looked  at  tbo  last  speaker,  and  so 
queer  a  smile,  so  bitter,  so  cynical,  and  so  scornfnl, 
came  over  bis  face,  tbat  a  new  liglit  dawned  on  Eve's 
mind.     It  broke  on  D'Arville's,  too,  and  be  spoke  : 

"Senor  i\rcndoz  bas  lost  faitb  in  tbo  sex  ;  but  it  is 
not  fair  to  judge  all  by  one.  Miss  Forest  is  no  common 
"woman,  and  not  to  be  judged  by  common  rules.     Sbe 


TWO     OLD    FlilENDS. 


2S1 


is  pretty,  too,  but  it  is  a  stnuigc  typu  of  prettiucss — im- 
familiiir  to  me." 

"  Tlio  more  charming,  tlion,  I  should  thiul<,"  said 
Paul  Schallcr.  "  Pi'cnez  (jarih  do  toinbov,  Monsieur 
D'Arvillo  !" 

Monsieur  D'Arville's  lips  curled  at  the  insinuation, 
and  just  then  tliero  was  a  tap  at  the  door.  D'Arville 
opened  it,  sujjpdsing  it  to  he  a  servant,  and  was  taken 
rather  aljaek  to  liiid  himself  confronted  by  tlie  fair,  still 
face,  and  soft,  gray  dress,  of  ^liss  Forest  herself.  Ho 
stejjped  back,  holding  the  door  open  for  her  to  euter, 
but  she  declined. 

"  Do  not  let  me  disturb  you  !  Mr.  Ilazelwood 
desired  me  to  tell  you  to  go  to  him  directly  after  luncii- 
eon,  and  lundieuu  \vaits  now.'' 

She  was  gone  again.  D'Arville  closed  the  door  and 
looked  at  the  rest. 

"Is  that  the  Marble  Bride  turned  Quakeress?"  asked 
V.Y.  Schatfer.  "  Jler  voice  is  like  the  music  of  the 
splu'i\!S,  though  I  can't  .'^ay  I  ever  heard  that  melody." 

"  I  take  it  u})on  myself  to  say  that  is  Miss  Forest,'' 
said  Senor  Mender. 

"And  something  out  of  the  common — do  you  not 
think  so  ?"  inquired  D'Arville. 


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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

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TWO    OLD    FRIENDS. 


"  Docidecl.7,  or  she  would  have  invited  us  to  lunch- 
eon," said  the  Creole  gentleman,  rising  ;  "but  as  she 
has  not,  we  make  our  exit.  Miss  Eve,  Miss  Hazel,  you 
should  go  down  and  see  Monkswood,  it  is  worth  the 
journey,  I  assure  you." 

"  Wo  will,"  said  Eve,  "  and  perhaps  this  afternoon 
Eh,  Hazel  ?" 

"All  right,"  said  Hazel.  "  I  was  bound  to  go  any 
way  ;  and,  what's  more,  I  am  going  to  call  at  the  Priory 
too.  Will  you  gentlemen  chaperone  us — we  might  go 
astray  in  this  barbarous  land." 

The  gentlemen  asseverated  that  they  would  only  be 
too  happy  and  blessed  to  do  so,  and  took  their  departure, 
and  the  trio  sought  the  dining-room.  Miss  Forest  was 
waiting  there,  before  a  table  glittering  with  silver  and 
cut-glass,  and  took  her  jilace  at  the  head  at  once. 

"  I  have  grown  so  accustomed  to  being  alone  on 
these  occasions,"  she  said,  smilingly,  "  that  I  fear  I  have 
half-forgotten  how  to  preside.  Mr.  Hazel  wood  so  rarely 
leaves  his  room,  and  wc  never  see  company,  so  I  live 
like  a  female  Robinson  Crusoe.  Let  mo  help  you  to 
some  of  this  pigeon-pie,  Mr.  P'Arville." 

"You  are  worse  off  than  Robinson  Crusoe  was,"  put 
in  pert  Hazel,  "for  he  had  a  man — Friday." 


TWO     OLD    FRIENDS. 


288 


Miss  Forest  only  noticed  this  speech  by  a  cold  stare, 
and  went  on  carving  the  pie.  It  was  not  a  very  com- 
fortable meal ;  for  the  solemn  old  butler  hovered  in  the 
background,  glaring  upon  them  all  in  awful  silence,  and 
Miss  Forest  was  so  very  ceremonious  and  stately,  that  it 
completely  took  away  even  Hazel's  appetite. 

**  I  declare.  Eve,  I'm  starving  !"  she  burst  out  when 
it  was  safely  over  at  last,  and  they  were  alone,  D'Arville 
having  gone  to  Mr.  Ilazelwood's  apartments.  "  I'll  bo 
skin  and  bone  shortly,  if  this  state  of  things  continues. 
I  hate  that  Una  Forest !    There  1" 

'* Hazel,  hush!" 

"I  won't  hush  ;  and  you  don't  like  her  yourself,  only 
you're  too  great  a  liypocrito  to  say  so.  I  wonder  if  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  an  oyster-saloon  in  Monkswood  ?" 

"  Oyster-saloon  ! — rubbish  !  Do  you  think  you  are 
back  in  New  York  ?" 

"  Oh,  don't  I  wish  I  only  was  !  But  there  must  be 
a  cookshop,  or  a  baker's  establishment,  or  something  or 
other  tliere,  to  keep  people  from  starving.  I'm  going  to 
see,  anyway.    Will  you  come  ?" 

"  Of  course — anything  for  a  quiet  life.  Wait  till  I 
get  my  hat." 

Arm  in  arm  the  two  girls  strolled  down  the  avenue 


284 


TWO    OLD    F HI  END  3. 


to  the  gates,  and  passed  out  into  the  highroad.  Pretty 
green  hmcs  branched  off  from  this  road  right  and  left ; 
and,  passing  one.  Eve  slopped  suddenly,  holding  Uazel 
back.  That  young  lady,  following  her  cousin's  glance, 
saw  nothing  more  startling  than  a  group  of  three  pei*- 
sons  standing  under  the  shadow  of  some  ash-trees, 
talking — one,  a  man  ;  the  other  two,  females.  The  man 
had  his  back  toward  them,  but  his  height  and  form 
were  too  familiar  to  bo  mistaken.  The  woman  nearest 
him  was  old,  bent,  and  faced  them ;  but  tlie  hood  of  her 
crimson  cloak  partly  concealed  her  face.  The  third 
leaned  against  a  tree,  sliadowed  by  its  long  arms,  so 
that  only  her  floating  skirts  and  gipsy-hat  were  visible. 
"What  is  Paul  Schaffer  up  to  now?"  asked  Eve. 
"And  Hazel,  isn't  that  the  old  fortune-teller  we  saw  at 
Madame  Schafler's  the  night  of  the  fete  ?" 

"Nonsense  !  How  could  she  get  to  England  ?  It 
looks  like  her,  though — don't  it  ?  That's  Paul  for  cer- 
tain ;  and  who  can.  the  third  one  be  ?  I  think  it's  a 
young  girl." 

"  I  am  certain  that  is  the  same  old  woman.  There  I 
Bhc  sees  us  and  is  gone  I" 

The  old  woman  had  cauglit  sight  of  them,  and  she 
and  her  female  companion  disappeared  among  the  trees. 


TWO    OLD    FRIENDS. 


The  man  turned  round  and  advanced.     Paul  Scliaffer  it 
certainly  was,  and  as  much  at  his  ease  as  ever. " 

"  "What !"  was  his  greeting.  •"  You  too  here  !  Well, 
this  is  an  unexpected  pleasure." 

Hazel  looked  at  him  with  jealous  eyes. 

"  Is  it  a  pleasure,  sir  ?  Who  were  those  two  women 
you  had  with  you  there  ?" 

"Oh,  you  saw  them,  did  you  ?  Gipsies,  of  course, 
didn't  you  see  their  red  cloaks  ?  there's  an  encampment 
of  them  in  the  woods,  and  I  was  having  my  fortune 
told." 

Eve  says  it's  the  old  woman  we  saw  at  Madame 
Schaffcr's  fete — the  fortune-teller,  you  know." 

Mr.  SchalTer  burst  into  a  laugh. 

**I  beg  your  pardon  !"  he  said  to  Eve.  "But  that 
is  rather  too  droll  a  notion.  She  is  quite  as  old  and 
quite  as  ugly,  I  agree,  but  all  tho  old  beldames  look 
alike. " 

*'  Were  they  both  old  women,  Paul  ?"  Hazel  asked, 
taking  his  arm,  and  qi.ite  reassured. 

*'  Of  course !  Come,  Scnor  Mendez  is  waiting  some- 
whore,  and  wo  are  going  to  take  you  both  to  see  Black 
Monks.  Oh,  here  he  comes  with  tho  fly  ;  and  now,  my 
dear  Hazel,  you  will  see  something  that  will  eclipse  the 


286 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


whole  Fifth  avenue,  with  Madison  square  thrown  in  1 
There  is  not  a  finer  place  in  EngUvnd,  they  tell  me,  than 
Black  Monk's  Priory, 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


EVES  SECOND   PROPOSAL. 

OTJ    had   better   not    go —  it    will    certainly 
rain." 

"  Rain !  Oh,  nonsense,  Miss  Forest, 
there  is  not  a  cloud  iu  the  sky.  It  is  as  clear  ana  blue 
as — as  your  eyes." 

Miss  Forest  smiled  slightly,  and  bowed  her  acknowl- 
edgment to  the  speaker,  Mr.  Paul  Schaffer. 

They  were  standing  togetlier  in  the  open  hall  door, 
with  the  August  sunshine  glowing  upon  them,  and 
watching  the  scene  on  the  lawn.  Two  young  ladies,  in 
riding-habits,  were  being  assisted  into  their  saddles,  by 
two  gentlemen,  whoso  horses  were  held  by  a  groom. 
Eve  and  Hazel,  of  course ;  the  former  waited  on  by 
Senor  Mendcz,  the  latter  by  D'Arville. 

Mr.   Schaffcr's  own  horse  stood  near,  too,  but  ho 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


287 


seemed  in  no  hurry,  as  ho  stood  whipping  his  boot,  and 
talking  to  Una  Forest.  Somehow  they  had  managed  to 
become  very  good  fricds,  these  two,  during  the  hist  few 
weeks. 

"  Miss  Hazel  Wood  is  looking  her  best,  this  after- 
noon,' ^I^.  Schaffer  said,  watching  her  under  his  eye- 
brows as  she  gathered  up  the  reins. 

"  Eve  is  a  prelty  girl,"  Miss  Forest  answered,  quietly, 
"and  pretty  girls  generally  look  their  prettiest  on 
horseback." 

"  So  Sonor  Mondez  seems  to  think,  by  his  devotion. 
Is  the  Spanish  grandee  trying  to  cut  out  the  Canadian 
schoolmaster  ?" 

"  And  is  Mr.  Paul  Schaffer  jealous  ?" 

"  Bah  !  You  know  I  am  done  for  !  Yonder  dumpy 
little  darling  is  my  fate,  of  course." 

"  Of  course  !  You  may  as  well  be  content  with 
tlie  goods  the  gods  have  furnished  you,  for  Eve's  case  is 
settled." 

"  You  think  so  ?" 

**  1  know  so.  I  am  a  woman,  Mr.  Schaffer,  and  she 
loves  Monsieur  D'Arville." 

"Are  you  telling  mo  that  by  way  of  news,  Miss 
Forest  ?    I  have    known  it  those    two    months,   and 


288 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


what's  more,  she  is  not  the  only  lady  who  worships  at 
the  same  slirinc !" 

"You  don't  mean  TTazcl  ?" 

Mr.  Schaffor  laughed  and  pulled  his  mustar^he. 

"  Oh  no  !  I  don't  mean  Hazel.  I  flatter  myself  that 
small  person  has  no  other  idol  but  your  humble  servant. 
No,  Miss  Forest,  I  don't  mean  Hazel  Wood.  Do  you 
understand  ?" 

Their  eyes  met.  Yes,  she  understood  and  turned 
away. 

Mr.  Sohaffer  bent  his  head  and  lowered  his 
voice. 

"This  time  comes  to  all  of  us  sooner  or  later,  they 
say  ;  and  I  believe  it ;  and  like  the  measles  and  whoop- 
ing-cough, the  later  in  life  we  take  it  the  more  severe 
it  is  apt  to  be.  Miss  Forest,  you  and  I  understand  each 
other,  I  think." 

"Mr.  Schaffer,  you  had  better  go  and  ride.  They 
arc  waiting  for  you." 

"Let  them  wait!  Miss  Forest,  will  you  be  my 
friend,  as  I  am  willing  to  be  yours  ?"  v 

"I  don't  understand  you,  Mr.  Schaffer  !" 

"  Oh  yes,  you  do  !  Claude  D'Arville  is  a  handsome 
fellow,  I  know,  though  I  am  not  a  woman,  and  he  loves 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


Evo  Hazelwood  ;  but  for  all  that  ho  will  never  marry 
her  !" 

"  You  are  raving  !  If  she  cares  for  him,  what  is  to 
prevent  it  ?" 

"The  fates  and  Paul  Schaffcr  !  Of  course  you  know 
my  secret  as  I  do  yours  !" 

**Long  ago  ;  and  so  dc.s  D'Arville." 

**  And  so  does  she,  and  my  wife  she  will  be  in  spito 
of  her  teeth  1" 

"  How  ?  Are  you  going  to  carry  her  off  to  some 
Canadian  castle,  in  the  old  knight-errant  style  ?  This 
is  the  year  of  graoo  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty, 
remember !" 

"Very  well,  she  vnll  marry  mo  for  all  that,  and  I 
shall  not  carry  her  off.  If  you  will  promise  to  aid  ma, 
Miss  Forest,  for  your  own  sake,  you  shall  know  my 
plans.  I  cannot  work  alone,  and  I  know  you  havo  no 
lov€  for  your  cousin." 

"My  cousin,"  Miss  Forest  said,  with  a  strange 
smile. 

"Oh,  I  know  all  about  that  too  ;  and  she  is  your 
cousin.  There,  they  are  off — for  the  present,  farewell. 
This  evening  you  shall  know  all,  and  the  play  will 
begin." 

18 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


"Take  care  of  the  storm  !"  Una  cried  after  him,  as 
he  cantered  down  the  avenue. 

But  a  careless  laugh  was  his  only  answer  as  ho  joined 
Hazel  and  D'Arville,  who  rode  last.  Hazel  was  inclined 
to  pout. 

**  Were  you  making  love  to  Miss  Forest,  jiray,"  she 
demanded,  "that  you  stayed  so  long  ?" 

Una,  by  the  way  was  always  Miss  Forest  to  the 
girls ;  they  would  as  soon  have  thought  of  calling  Queen 
Victoria  by  her  Christian  name,  had  they  chanced  to 
meet  her,  as  the  stately  and  cold  little  Albino. 

"  No,  my  dear  !  She  was  merely  wai'ning  me  about 
the  weather." 

"  Why,  what  ails  the  weather  ?" 

"  Nothing  that  I  can  see.  Miss  Forest,  though,  it 
seems  has  had  private  information  from  the  clerk  of  the 
■weather,  that  it  is  going  to  rain." 

"And  wo  will  have  a  thunder-storm  before  long  !" 
said  D'Arville,  whose  eyes  had  been  dreamily  fixed 
on  the  graceful  figure  of  the  lady  before  him  hitherto, 
lifting  them  now  to  the  sky.  "  Look  at  that 
cloud  1" 

"Oh,  it  will  blow  over!  Don't  predict  evil!  Sor- 
row's soon  enough  when  it  comes." 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


i»t 


**  I  Avondor  wliiifc  Sonor  Montloz  is  saying  to  Eve," 
cxcliiimcd  Ilazol.  "  How  devoted  ho  looks,  and  liow  he 
bends  down  to  catch  every  word  !  What  shines  these 
old  fellows  do  take  to  girls,  now  and  then  !" 

"  Senor  Moiidcz  is  not  old,"  said  Mr.  Schaffer  bland- 
ly, glancing  sideways  at  D'Arville,  whose  brows  were 
contracting.  "lie  is  a  fine-looking  man,  and.  in  the 
prime  of  life.  "When  do  you  suppose  Miss  Eve  will  go 
to  live  in  her  custle  in  Spain,  TLizel  ?" 

"Shortly,  I  should  tliink,  for  it  is  a  mutual  strike." 

"  Indeed  !  has  slie  told  you  so  ?" 

**  Oh,  la  !  no  !  Catch  Eve  talking  about  such  a 
thing,  but  I  know  the  symptoms,  you  see,"  said  Hazel 
gravely,  "and — goodness  me  I  how  dark  it's  getting  !" 

"We  are  in  for  a  wetting!  Miss  Forest  was  right 
after  all  !"  said  D'Arville.     "  Listen  to  that !" 

It  was  a  sharp  and  sudden  peal  of  tliunder,  preceded 
by  a  vivid  Hash  of  lightning,  and  great  drops  of  rain. 
The  whole  face  of  tlic  sky  had  blackened  with  astonish- 
ing rapidity,  and  the  storm  was  upon  them  in  its  fury. 
Worst  of  all,  they  had  been  riding  fast,  and  had  left  the 
village  behind  them,  and  were  out  now  on  a  lonely  couu- 
try-road,  with  no  house  in  siglit. 

Hazel  gave  a  little  screech  of  dismay. 


209 


EVE'S    SECOND    PliOPOSAL. 


*'  Good  gracious,  Piuil  !  wlmtcvcr  will  wo  do  1  It  is 
going  to  pour  down  straight,  and  I've  got  my  now  hat 
onl" 

But  ono  stop  'rom  tho  sublime  to  the  ridiculous  ;  but 
it  was  only  liumun  nature — a  girl's  flrst  idea  in  a  tempest 
is  about  her  hat ! 

Before  Paul  could  offer  consolation,  there  was  another 
deafening  th.under-clap,  another  sheet  of  flame,  a  rush 
of  rain,  another  wild  shriek  from  Hazel,  and  aery  from 
D'Arvillo. 

The  horses  of  the  pair  before  them  had  taken  fright, 
at  least  the  gentleman's  had,  and  was  flying  off  like  mad  ; 
and  the  lady's,  startled  by  the  proceeding,  was  dashing 
off  at  full  speed  after  it.  It  was  quite  evident  Eve  had 
lost  all  management  of  her  steed,  only  a  half-tamed  thing 
at  best. 

"She  will  be  thrown  !  she  will  bo  killed  1 "  shouted 
Paul  Schaffer  excitedly,  "  and  Mendez  cannot  help  her. 
Great  Heavens  !  she  is  down  !" 

It  was  true  ;  the  frightened  animal  had  thrown  her, 
and  was  away  like  tho  wind.  D'Arville,  his  face  per- 
fectly white  with  horror,  dashed  tho  spurs  into  his 
horse,  and  in  five  seconds  after  had  vaulted  off  and  lifted 
the  prostrate  form  in  his  arms  with  a  passionate  cry. 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


203 


"Evo,  my  darling  !     My  darling,  are  you  killed  ?" 

No  ;  or  if  she  was,  his  words  had  ra..^,;  power  to 
charm  her  back  to  life,  for  the  dark  oycR  slowiy  opened 
and  looked  up  in  his  face  with  her  whole  heart  in  their 
depths.     In  a  rapture  he  bent  over  her,  reading  it  all. 

•*  Thank  God  !  Oh,  thank  Ood,  she  lives  still !  My 
darling,  are  you  hurt  ?" 

Her  face  was  perfectly  colorless,  and  there  was  blood 
upon  it,  but  she  forced  a  smile  and  made  an  effort  to 
rise.  But  he  held  her  fast,  though  the  otlior  two  were 
riding  up. 

"  Evo,  they  are  here — one  word  before  they  come. 
You  know  I  love  you  !" 

Yes,  she  knew  it.  One  little  hand  still  in  his,  one 
other  glance  from  the  dark  eyes,  and  h^,  was  a  happy 
man.  The  other  two  were  beside  them  with  faces  of 
consternation,  and  the  rain  was  coming  down  in  torrents. 

"Oh,  Eve  !  are  you  much  hurt  ?"  was  Htzcl's  shrill 
cry,  forgetting  all  about  her  new  hat. 

"  Set  me  up,  please,  and  I  will  see,"  Eve  said, 
faintly,  smiling  up  in  D'Arville's  face.  "My  head 
struck  something  ;  but  I  think,  on  tlie  whole,  I  was 
more  frightened  than  hurt." 

She  stood  up  as  she  spoke,  very  pale,  and  with  the 


994 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


blood  flowing  from  tlio  cut  iu  tlie  forehead,  but  with 
no  broke  a  bones. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  it  is  so  well !"  exclaimed  D'Arville  ; 
*'  but  Eve,  what  are  we  to  do  with  you  ?  It  won't  mend 
matters  to  stand  in  this  downpour." 

"  Eve  !"  Paul  SchafTcr's  keen  glance  flashed  from  one 
to  the  other,  and  road  tlie  whole  story.  It  was  the  first 
time  Claude  D'Arville  had  ever  called  her  other  thau 
Miss  Hazel  wood. 

"  There  is  a  house  over  there,"  said  Hazel,  pointing. 
*'Let  Eve  take  your  horse.  Monsieur  D'Arville,  and  we 
will  be  under  cover  in  no  time." 

"An  excellent  idea.  Miss  Eve,  let  me  assist  you  to 
mount." 

"But  you,"  Eve  Iiesitated,  "you  will  be  exposed 
to  all  this  rai?)  " 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence  about  me.  I  won't  melt. 
Here,  up  with  you." 

Eve  mounted  his  horse  and  bent  down  to  him  as  she 
gathered  up  the  reih 

"You  will  hurry  after  us,"  she  said,  anxiously. 
And  his  answer  was  the  light  that  so  vividly  lit  up  his 
dark,  handsome  face. 

"Yes,  I  will  hurry.     Off  with  you  now." 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


295 


They  dashed  off,  leaving  liim  to  follow  on  foot,  and 
in  five  minutes  were  at  the  house.  It  was  a  sort  of  way- 
pide  inn,  and  held  other  storm-bound  wayfarers  it 
seemed ;  .for  a  gentleman  stood  in  the  open  doorway, 
watching  the  storm.  He  drew  back  as  the  young 
ladies,  with  uplifted  skirts,  skimmed  past  him  into  the 
parlor,  and  Eve  thought  of  Paul  Schaffer's  description 
of  the  lord  of  Black  Monk's — "  grave  and  middle-aged, 
tall  and  stately,  gentlemanly  and  rather  distinguished- 
looking" — and  made  up  her  mind  that  this  was  Lord 
Landsdownc.  The  parlor  was  tenanted,  too.  In  a  leath- 
ern easy-chair  in  the  chimney-corner  a  lady  sat — a  lady 
richly  dressed  in  silk  and  velvet,  with  diamonds  flashing 
on  her  white  hands,  whoso  hauglity  and  handsome  face 
Eve  had  seen  before.  It  was  Lady  Landsdowne.  Evo 
remembered  the  proud,  cold  facp  ^ramed  in  golden 
brown  hair,  that  had  looked  from  the  carriage-window 
that  first  evening,  in  Monkswood  village. 

She  was  dressed  in  walking  costume  now ;  her  bine 
velvet  mantle  falling  off  her  sloping  slioulders,  the 
dainty  bonnet,  a  snow-flake,  sprinkled  with  azure,  still 
on  her  head.     She  had  been  looking  into  the  fire,  her 


brow  contj'acted    in    an   impatient 
entered,   and  the  first  elance 


frown   when    they 


the  first  glance  had  been  careless  and 


998 


EVE' 8    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


supercilious  enough.  But  that  glance  changed,  fixed, 
grew  wild  and  amazed,  and  tlie  bright  blue  eye  dilated 
on  Eve  as  if  she  had  been  a  ghost.  There  had  been  a 
Btifled  cry,  too,  and  a  half  bound  from  her  chair,  but 
she  sank  back  as  the  eyes  of  the  trio  turned  on  her  in 
wonder.  Her  face,  her  very  lips  had  turned  ashen 
white,  and  her  blue  eyes  still  were  riveted  on  Eve's  face, 
with  a  look  none  present  could  comprehend.  What 
was  there  in  that  beautiful  face  to  inspire  that  look  of 
fear,  of  affright,  of  positive  horror  ?  Paul  Schaffer 
made  a  step  toward  lier. 

"Madam,  you  are  ill — you  are — " 

The  sound  of  his  voice  was  magical.  She  started  to 
her  feet  at  once. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  sharply;  "you  have  startled  me. 
I  cannot  bear  the  sight  of  blood  !  What  is  the  matLer 
with  that  young  lady  ?" 

"  She  has  had  a  fall  from  her  horse  and  has  cut  her 
forehead.  I  regret  that  our  entrance  should  have  so 
disturbed  you." 

The  lady's  only  reply  to  Mr.  Schaffer's  civil  speech 
was  to  gather  up  her  mantle  and  sweep  past  him  to  the 
door  with  a  stormy  rustling  of  silk.  There  the  gentle- 
man in  waiting  met  her  with  an  inquiring  face. 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


297 


"  Has  the  carriage  not  come  yet,  my  loi'd  ?"  she 
demanded,  in  the  same  sharp  tone. 

"  Oh,  isn't  she  a  Satan  !"  Hazel  whispered  to  Eve. 

"  Not  yet,"  the  gentleman  answered.  **  It  will  be 
here  presently,  though." 

"I  want  to  go,"  said  the  lady,  still  more 
sharply.  "I  don't  choose  to  sit  in  a  room  crowded 
with  people.  Wlio  are  those  persons  who  have  just 
entered  ?" 

"Civil,  that  —  upon  my  word  !"  exclaimed  Hazel, 
whistling,  while  Eve's  eyes  flashed. 

"My  dear,"  they  heard  the  gentleman  say,  in  a  low 
tone,  "they  are  most  respectable.  They  are  the 
Hazelwoods.     You  had  better  wait — " 

"  I  don't  choose  to  wait  any  longer,"  the  lady, 
almost  passionately,  cried.  "  I  shall  go  if  I  have  to  walk, 
sooner  than  sit  amongst  such  a  crowd.  Go  and  see  if  the 
people  who  keep  this  place  have  no  sort  of  conveyance  at 
all  that  will  take  us  home  ?" 

"  Here  is  the  carriage,  at  last !"  exclaimed  the  gentle- 
man, in  a  tone  of  intense  relief.  And  as  he  spoke,  a 
handsome  carriage,  drawn  by  handsome  horses,  and  with 
the  arms  of  the  Landsdowne  family  upon  the  panel, 

drew  up  before  the  door.    Bight  after  it,  came  cantering 
18* 


298 


EVE'S    SECOND    PROPOSAL. 


a  rider  at  a  furious  pace.  It  was  Senor  Mendez,  in  a 
state  of  intense  excitement  and  anxiety  about  Eve.  He 
had  seen  tlie  horses  at  the  door,  and  sprang  from  his 
saddle  at  once,  and  strode  past  Lord  and  Lady  Lands- 
downe  into  the  parlor. 

"Eve — Miss  Ilazelwood — are  you  hurt?  There  is 
blood  on  your  face  !" 

"It  is  nothing  —  only  a  scratch,"  Eve  answered. 
"Are  you  sure  you  are  quite  safe  yourself?  It  was  a 
second  edition  of  Mazeppa  or  John  Gilpin — I  hardly 
know  which." 

"  Oh,  I  am  safe  enough,  only  completely  blown,  and 
frightened  out  of  my  wits  about  yci.  I  knew  you  were 
here  when  I  saw  the  horses.'- 

He  took  off  his  hat  as  he  spoke,  to  fan  himself, 
revealing  his  face  for  the  first  time  to  the  pair  without. 
As  he  did  so,  there  Avas  a  wild  shriek  from  the  lady,  a 
sudden  reel  fcrward,  and  a  something  fell  to  the  floor 
like  a  log.  The  cry  was  echoed  by  the  gentleman,  and 
all  rushed  out.  Lady  Landsdowne  had  fainted,  and 
was  lying  on  the  floor  like  one  dead. 

"  The  lady  has  fainted,"  said  Souor  Mendez,  coolly, 
"Can  we  be  of  any  assistance  to  your  lordship  ?" 

"None,  thank  you.     John,  open  the  door." 


EYE' a    SECOND    PRO  POP  A  L. 


209 


John,  the  coachman,  obeyed,  and  Lord  Landsdowne 
carried  my  lady  in  liis  arms,  got  her  in  with  Jolin's  help, 
followed,  and  gave  the  order  to  drive  homo.  Our  party 
stood  in  the  doorway  until  the  carriage  was  out  of 
sight. 

"  Is  my  lady  mad,  I  wonder  ?"  asked  Paul  Schaffer. 
**What  made  her  faint?" 

"And  what  made  her  scream  and  stare  at  Eve  so 
when  we  came  in  ?*'  asked  Hazel.  "  She  must  want  a 
square  of  being  sound,  or  she  would  never  cut  up  so." 

"  What  does  Eve  think  ?"  Senor  Mendez  asked, 
looking  at  her  with  an  inexplicable  smile. 

But  Eve  did  not  answer.  Slie  was  watching  a  figure 
coming  through  the  slanting  rain,  with  a  look  at  once 
tender  and  anxious  in  her  eyes. 

"  Here  comes  Monsieur  D'Arville,"  cried  out  Hazel, 
"looking  like  a  drowned  rat  !  Look  at  Eve's  face. 
One  would  think  she  was  ready  to  cry  from  sympathy." 

"  Do  you  sec  ?"  Seignor  Mendez  said,  looking  signifi- 
cantly at  Paul  Schaffer,  and  that  young  gentleman  smiled 
superciliously. 

"  I  see  Miss  Eve  wears  her  heart  on  her  sleeve,  for 
daws  to  peck  at,  and  that  it  is  D'Arville's  turn  to-day — 
mine  may  come  to-morrow  1" 


800 


A    MOONLiani    INTERVIEW, 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


A.  MOON^LIGHT    miERVIEW. 


JONG  lances  of  moonlight  streaming  through 
the  vast  window,  uiinglod  with  the  light  of 
two  wax  candles,  and  fell  on  the  pale  face 
of  Eve  Hazelwood,  as  she  sat  in  an  easy-chair,  having 
her  wounded  forehead  bound  with  long  strips  of  court- 
plaster. 

On  two  pale  faces,  for  Una  Forest  was  the  surgeon, 
and  her  blue  eyes  were  full  of  tender  solicitude,  as  they 
rested  on  the  colorless  face  of  her  j>atient. 

**  How  pale  you  look,  my  dear  !"  her  soft  voice  was 
pityingly  saying.  "  I  am  sure  your  poor  bruised  fore- 
head must  be  very  painful." 

Eve  laughed  good-naturedly. 

*'  Oh  no.  It  is  not  very  painful ;  it  only  feels  a 
little  stiff  and  sore.  Don't  I  look  shocking  with  all  this 
plaster  ?  Why  could  not  I  have  bruised  my  arm  or  my 
head  instead  of  my  face,  I  wonder  ?" 

"  My  love,  you  have  reason  to  be  thankful  it  was  not 
your  neck  you  broke  !  What  would  Monsieur  D'Arville 
kave  done  then  ?" 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


801 


Eve  blushed,  as  only  sixteen  years  ever  does,  at  the 
allusion.  What  a  happy  ride  it  had  been  for  her,  in 
spite  of  her  cut  face  ! 

"And  that  reminds  mo,"  Miss  Forest  placidly  went 
on,  noting  the  telltale  blush,  "  that  you  had  better  keep 
your  room  this  evening,  if  you  don't  want  to  disenchant 
him.  Of  course,  our  Eve  must  bo  pretty  at  all  times, 
but  I  can  assure  her  she  is  a  great  deal  prettier  without 
strips  of  court-plaster." 

Eve  glanced  at  herself  in  the  mix'ror,  and  fully  con- 
curred in  the  opinion. 

"It's  too  bad,  but  I  suppose  there  is  no  help  for  it ; 
My  head  foels  a  little  dizzy  and  confused,  too ;  and  I 
think,  on  the  whole,  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is,  to  go  to 
bed." 

**  Exactly,  my  dear  !  Yoy  will  feel  all  right  to-mor- 
row morning,  and  your  roses  will  have  returned  in  full 
bloom.  Now  I  shall  fetch  you  some  tea  and  toast  and 
see  you  safely  tucked  in  bed.  Hazel  must  not  disturb 
you  to-night — she  will  make  you  ill  and  feverish  with 
her  own  tittle-tattle,  and  must  keep  her  room." 

"How  kind  she  is,  after  all !"  thought  Eve,  as  the 
little  Albino  tripped  away,  "and  how  Hazel  and  I  have 
misjudged  her  !     I  feel  as  if  I  could  go  down  into  the 


802 


A     MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


valley  of  humiliation,  and  be*^  her  pardon  on  my  knees 
for  rash  judgment.  Oh,  what  a  night  it  is  !  and  how 
happy  I  am  !  I  wonder  what  ho  is  doing  down  stairs  I 
I  wonder  if  he  will  miss  me  this  evening  !" 

Alone  as  she  was,  she  felt  her  face  glowing,  and  cov- 
ered it  with  her  hands,  with  a  little  laugh  at  her  silli- 
ness. A  soft  rustling  of  silk  made  her  look  up.  Miss 
Forest  was  there  again,  cfUTymg  a  tray  herself,  laden 
with  tea  and  toast,  and  marmahide. 

"Now,  my  dear,  take  something  before  you  retire, 
itv/ill  make  you  feel  all  the  better  to-morrow." 

**  How  good  you  are,  Miss  Forest !"  Eve  cried  out  in 
the  fullness  of  her  heart,  to  take  all  this  trouble  for  me  !" 

0  Una  Forest  !  little  white  hypocrite  !  had  you  ever 
in  all  your  life  been  guilty  of  a  blush,  it  should  have 
been  then  !  But  the  pale  blue  eyes  only  shifted  away 
under  the  grateful  glance  of  the  luminous  black  ones, 
and  the  little  fair  bauds  twisted  in  and  out  among  the 
plates. 

**  Don't  mention  it,  my  dear;  it  is  nothing  !  Why 
do  you  not  eat  ?    You  taste  nothing." 

"  I  am  not  hungry,  thank  you  I  I  want  nothing  but 
the  tea.  And  now  I  think  I  will  lie  down,  and  sleep 
away  this  dizzy  head." 


A    MOONLTOnT    INTERVIEW. 


303 


"  And  I  will  take  iiway  those  candles,  lest  they  should 
tempt  you  to  sit  up  and  read  ;  and  I  will  lock  your  door 
to  keep  that  little  tomboy,  Hazel,  from  breaking  in," 
said  Miss  Forest,  laughing  and  nodding.  "And  now, 
my  love,  good  night  and  pleasant  dreams  to  you  !" 

She  kissed  her  as  she  spoke — the  little  female  Judas 
— and  left  the  room,  putting  the  key  in  her  pocket. 
She  glanced  back  at  it  from  the  bead  of  tlie  stair?  with 
a  cold,  glittering  evil  smile. 

"They  may  be  pleasant  to-night,  pretty  Eve,"  she 
said  softly,  "  but  they  will  hardly  be  so  sweet  to-morrow 
night.  You  shall  never  bo  D'Arville's  bride  until  my 
brain  loses  its  power  to  plot,  and  my  right  hand  its  cun- 
ning to  work." 

She  clenched  the  little  digit  fiercely  as  she  spoke, 
and  went  down-stairs  to  the  parlor. 

Hazel  and  D'Arville  wore  there:  the  former  jingling 
away  at  the  piano  ;  the  latter  holding  a  book,  but  seeing 
only  a  pair  of  black  eyes,  a  shower  of  black  curls  and  a 
very  young  face,  fresh  and  sunshiny  as  Hebe's  own, 
looking  up  at  him  from  every  page. 

Hazel  stopped  clattering  the  "Wedding  March," 
whirled  round  on  her  stool  and  faced  Una. 

"  Where's  Eve  ?" 


804 


A    MOONLIQUT    INTERVIEW. 


"  In  her  room."  i 

"  Ain't  she  coming  down  ?" 

"Not  to  night,  sho  siiya.  She  lias  court-plaster 
on  her  foreheiid,  and  feels  liglit-headed  after  her  fall, 
so  has  gone  to  bod.     I  locked  you  out  for  the  night." 

"  Locked  mo  out !"  shrilly  cried  Hazel.  **  What  is 
that  for  ?" 

**She  thinks  sho  will  feel  better  alone,  I  suppose. 
All  I  know  is,  you  are  to  keep  your  own  room  to- 
night." 

"  The  hateful  mean  thing  !  I'll  go  and  sleep  in  the 
attic  with  one  of  the  maids,  before  I  roost  alone  in  there 
among  all  the  ghosta  and  rats,  and  other  vermin.  Eve's 
nothing  but  a  nasty  selfish  thing  1" 

"My  dear,  if  you're  really  afraid,"  said  Miss  Forest, 
blandly,  "you  can  share  my  chamber  for  this  one 
night." 

"  Oh,"  said  Hazel,  wilting  down  suddenly  at  the 
proposed  cure,  which  was  worse  than  the  disease,  "  I 
guess  I  sha'n't  mind  it  so  much,  after  all.  If  Eve  and 
the  rest  of  you  can  face  the  ghosts  alone,  I  dare  say  I 
can,  too  !    Well,  what's  the  matter  now  ?" 

For  Miss  Forest,  putting  her  hand  in  her  pocket 
suddenly,  uttered  a  sharp  exclamation  of  alarm. 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


803 


D'Arvillo  lifted  an  inquiring  face  from  his  book. 

"  I  hiivo  lost  my  piirso,  and  it  contained  money  to  a 
largo  amount !  I  had  it  when  I  was  out  in  the  grounds 
this  afternoon.     I  must  have  dropped  it  there." 

D'Arvillo  rose  up. 

"  The  night  is  clear  as  day  ;  permit  me  to  go  out  and 
search  for  it,  Miss  Forest." 

Miss  Forest  hesitated. 

"It  is  so  much  trouble." 

"  It  is  no  trouble  at  all.  In  what  part  of  the  grounds 
were  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  in  several  places  ;  but  I  think  I  may  have  drop- 
ped it  near  the  old  well,  at  the  ash-trees.  You  know 
the  place  ?  I  remember  palling  my  handkerchief  out 
there  to  throw  over  my  head,  and  may  have  pulled  the 
purse  out  with  it." 

"What  kind  of  purse  was  it  ?" 

"A  portemounaio  of  gold  and  ebony.  It  was  a  gift 
from  a  dear  friend ;  and,  independent  of  the  money  it 
contained,  very  valuable  to  mo  on  that  account.  Hazel 
and  I  will  go  with  you  and  help  in  the  search." 

The  three  started.  All  traces  of  the  thunder-storm 
liad  disappeared,  and  the  fall  moon  rode  in  a  cloudless 
sky,  studded  with  countless  stars. 


306 


A    MOOmJOIIT    INTERVIEW. 


As  D'Arvillo  luul  siiid,  it  was  clear  us  day,  and  tho 
old  house  looked  quiiiut  and  picturesque  in  tho  silvery 
rays. 

"What  a  lovely  night,"  Una  exclaimed.  "Who 
says  it  is  all  fog  in  England  ?  Your  blue  Canadian  skies 
were  never  brighter  than  that,  Monsieur  D'Arvillo  !" 

"The  night  is  glorious,  and  old  England  a  very 
pleasant  place,  Miss  Forest.  Ilazelvvood  looks  charming 
by  moonlight." 

"  And  Eve's  gone  to  bed  !"  sententiously  put  in 
Hazel,  following  his  glance.  "Her  room  is  all  in  the 
dark.  That's  a  bran-new  idea  of  hers ;  for  of  late  she 
has  taken  to  sit  at  the  window  and  stargaze.  I  believe 
the  girl's  in  love  !" 

"And  who  is  the  happy  man,  petite f^  smilingly 
inquired  Una. 

"  Oh,  a  friend  of  ours  ;  either  Scnor  Mendez,  Mr 
Schaffer,  or  Monsieur  D'Arvillo  here.  And,"  said 
Hazel,  with  an  innocent  face,  "I  really  don't  know 
which." 

The  dark  Canadian  face  of  D'Arville  lit  up  with  its 
rare  smile. 

"Mademoiselle,  I  thought  Mr.  Schaffer  was  your 
property  ?" 


A    MOONLIOHT    INTERVIEW. 


Wf 


**  Well,  that's  the  very  reason  why  Eve  might  want 
him  too.  One  girl  always  does  want  what  another 
possesses,  and  tries  to  cut  her  out.  I  know  I  should 
myself !" 

"  A  very  amiable  trait  in  young  ladies'  characters. 
But  hero  we  are  at  the  ash-trees,  and  now  lor  Miss 
Forest's  purse." 

But  though  they  wandered  up  and  down,  and  here 
and  there,  and  in  and  out  among  the  ash-trees,  no 
glittering  speck  of  gold  and  ebony  flushed  back  the 
moonlight  from  the  grass. 

"Wo  had  better  go  over  to  the  old  well,"  said  Una, 
anxiously;  "it  is  just  possible  I  may  have  dropped  ifc 
tliere,  and  it  is  quite  certain  it  is  not  here." 

The  "old  well''  was  some  half-dozen  yards  off — a 
lonesome  spot,  shaded  by  gloomy  ash-trees,  where  few 
ever  went.  The  three  turned  thoir  steps  in  that  direc- 
tion— steps  that  awoke  no  echo  on  the  velvet  sward — 
when  Hazel  suddenly  stopped  and  raised  a  warning 
finger. 

"Hush  !"  she  whisiiered  ;  "listen  to  that !" 

"  It  is  voices,"  said  D'Arville,  lowering  his  own. 
"Some  one  is  at  the  old  well  before  us,  and  may  have 
found  your  purse." 


808 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


"  Let  us  see  who  they  are,"  said  Una.  **  We  can  do 
it  without  being  seen  ourselves.  I  don't  want  to  lose 
the  purse,  if  I  can  help  it.     And — " 

She  stopped  short,  and  laid  her  hand  over  Hazel's 
mouth,  to  stifle  the  cry  that  was  breaking  fi'om  her  at 
the  sight  they  beheld.  In  the  clear  moonlight,  under 
the  old  oak-trees,  two  figures  stood  distinctly  revealed. 
There  was  no  mistaking  their  indentity.  The  tall  young 
man  was  Paul  Sclwiffcr ;  the  girl,  wrapped  in  a  large 
shawl  familiar  to  all  three,  with  strips  of  white  plaster 
on  her  forehead,  was  Eve  Hazelwood.  Yes,  Eve  Hazel- 
wood.  There  was  no  mistaking  that  beautiful  face,  that 
shower  of  shining  hair,  those  lustrous  black  eyes,  uplif- 
ted to  the  man's  face.  Together  these  two  stood  as  only 
lovers  stand,  his  arm  encircling  her  waist,  his  head  bent 
down  until  his  own  dark  locks  mingled  with  hers. 
They  were  talking,  too,  as  only  lovers  talk  ;  and  as  they 
moved  away  very  slowly  in  an  opposite  direction,  the 
listening  trio  distinctly  caught  every  word.  It  was  Paul 
Schaffcr's  laughing  voice  they  hoard  first. 

"And  so  the  poor  little  Canadian  schoolmaster  has 
actually  como  to  it  at  last,  and  you  have  Avon  your  bet. 
What  a  wicked  little  thing  you  are.  Eve  !" 

"And  I  am  going  to  write  to  Kate  to-morrow,"  said 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVrEW. 


809 


the  voice  of  Eve — that  sweet  and  silvery  voice.  "  It  was 
the  night  of  the  fSte—y'on  remember,  Paul— that  she 
and  I  made  that  memorable  bet  that  I  would  not  have 
the  flinty  professor  at  my  feet  before  the  end  of  three 
months.  Kate  thought  him  like  Acliilles,  invincible, 
but  I  knew  better,  and  to-day  he  came  to  it  at  last." 

"Your  fall  was  not  so  unlucky,  then,  after  all,"  ho 
laughed,  and  Eve  joined  in. 

"  What  would  you  say,  Paul,  if  I  told  you  the  fall 
was  more  than  half  planned  ?  He  was  so  tiresome  and 
so  long  coming  to  the  point,  tliat  some  ruso  was  neces- 
sary, and  that  was  the  only  one  I  could  think  of.  It 
answered  the  purpose  admirably.  Oh,  you  should  have 
heard  him  !" 

"  You  pretty  little  sinner  1  And  what  do  you  sup- 
pose I  am  going  to  say  to  such  goings  or..  Mistress 
Eve  ?" 

"Nothing  at  all,  of  course  1  You  know  I  care  for 
nobody  in  the  world  but  you,  Paul.  And  I  have  not 
half  done  yet,  for  I  mean  to  number  Senor  Meudez 
among  my  list  of  killed  and  wounded  before  I  am 
satisfied." 

"Now,  Eve!" 

"Now,  Paul  1"— with  pretty  tvillfulness— "I  must,  I 


310 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


tell  you  !  My  repntation  as  a  beauty  is  at  stake,  and  I 
feel  in  duty  bound  to  humble  the  old  grandee  !  Oh, 
what  a  splendid  night  it  is  !  And  they  think  I  am 
sleeping  tlie  sleep  of  the  just  up  in  my  room  !  My  poor 
bruised  forehead" — laughing  gayly — "  was  a  flue  excuse 
to  steal  out  and  meet  you." 

"  Eve,  what  did  you  say  to  D'Arville  ?" 

"Jfothing  at  all.  Do  you  think  I  am  so  poor  a 
diplomat  ?  But  actions  and  looks,  you  know,  some- 
times speak  louder  than  words.  Oh,  he  has  his  answer, 
and  is  a  happy  man  !" 

"  Poor  fellow  !  Eve,  you  ought  to  have  a  littlo 
mercy  !" 

"Bah!  you  lecture,  indeed!  Why  have  you  no 
mercy  on  Hazel  ?  You  do  nothing  but  make  love  to 
her  from  morning  till  night,  and  pay  no  attention  to 


me. 


» 


*'My  dear  Eve,  you  mistake.  She  makes  love  to 
me  !  As  to  not  noticing  you,  is  it  not  some  of  your 
provoking  diplomacy  ?  I  give  you  fair  warning,  I  won't 
stand  it  much  longer  !" 

The  girl  clasped  his  arm  with  botii  hands  and  looked 
up  in  his  face  with  laughing,  loving  eyes. 

"You  dear  cross,  good-natured  Paul  !    It  won't  be 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


311 


necessary  for  yoii  to  stuiid  it  much  longer.  Once 
I  have  conquered  Monsieur  Mustache  "Wliiskerando,  us 
Hazel  calls  him,  I'll  be  good  and  obedient,  and  let  you 
have  your  own  way  in  everything.  You  know  well 
enough  I  care  for  nobody  but  you.  Do  I  not  run  risk 
enough  in  meeting  you  like  this  ?'' 

There  was  a  caress  and  an  answer  breathed  so  low 
that  they  could  not  catch  it ;  and  then  the  lovers  turned 
into  a  side-path  and  disuppcarad.  But  both  faces,  as 
they  turned,  were  for  a  second  full  toward  them,  with 
the  bright  moonlight  shining  full  on  them  ;  and  every 
vestige  of  doubt,  if  such  a  thing  could  still  linger,  van- 
ished. Beautiful,  treacherous,  deceitful,  it  was  indeed 
the  face  of  Eve  Ilazelwood — all  her  black  curls  Jutter- 
ing  in  the  night-wind  ;  and  that  other,  bending  over 
her,  was  Paul  Schailcr,  Hazel's  false  lover.  Then  tliey 
were  gone,  and  only  the  cold  mocking  moonlight 
remained  where  they  had  stood. 

I       A  spell  seemed  to  have  boinul  the  three   lookers-on 

to  the  spot.     Tlieir  evanishmcnt  broke  it.     There  was 

a  sound,  something  between  a  cry  and  a  hysterical  sob 

from  poor  Hazel,  as  she  grasped  D'Arville's  arm. 

"0  Monsieur  D'Arville,  it  is  Paul  and  Eve  !" 

He  had  been  standing  as  motionless  as  if  changed  to 


8t3 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


Stone,  his  eyes  never  moving  from  the  pair  before  him 
while  they  had  remained.  Now  ho  turned  to  the  poor 
little  speaker,  his  face  like  white  marble,  but  with  pity 
in  his  deep  dark  eyes  for  her. 

"Yes,  poor  child  !  I  have  long  known  that  this  must 
como  to  you  some  day ;  but  I  never  thought  of  its  com- 
ing in  this  manner.  Wc  have  both  been  deceived.  Hazel 
— 1  far  more  than  you." 

"  Can  I  believe  my  eyes  ?  I  feel  as  if  I  were  dream- 
ing !  I  always  thought  she  disliked  Mr.  Schaffer,"  said 
Una  Forest,  with  a  bewildered  look. 

A  smile,  cold  and  bitter,  and  mocking,  broke  over 
D'Arville's  face. 

"  Did  you  not  hear  the  reason  ?  It  was  the  young 
lady's  diplomacy — she  wished  to  win  her  bets  and  make 
more  conquests.  I  have  known  this  long  time  Mr. 
Schaffer  was  one  of  her  admirers  ;  but  I  was  so  well  de- 
ceived by  the  fair  diplomat  that  I  imagined  the  love  was 
all  on  his  side.  Miss  Wood,  get  up — you  had  better  go 
back  to  the  house." 

Poor  Miss  Wood  !  She  had  sunk  down  on  the  wet 
grass,  sobbing  hysterically,  sobbing  as  a  little  child  does, 
who  has  lost  a  precious  toy.  D'Arville  raised  her  gently 
and  drew  her  hand  within  his  arm,  and  Hazel  let  herself 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


813 


be  drawn  away,  weeping  still,  but  **  passive  to  all 
changes." 

"You  had  better  let  her  stay  with  you  to-night. 
Miss  Forest,"  he  said,  **  and  try  and  comfort  her  !  Her 
dream  has  been  broken  rudely  and  bitterly  enough." 

**  I  shall  do  my  best,"  TJna  said ;  "  but  good  heavens ! 
who  could  have  imagined  this  was  Eve  Hazelvvood  !  I 
thought  her  simple  as  a  child — pure  as  a  saint." 

"My  mistake,  exactly  !"  D'Arville  said,  with  the 
same  cold  smile  :  "  I  have  often  heard  how  fair  an  out- 
side falsehood  hath — I  never  fully  realized  it  before." 

"I  shall  inform  Mr.  Hazelwood  to-morrow,"  said 
Miss  Forest,  firmly  ;  "  it  is  my  duty  to  put  a  stop  to 
such  shameful  doings.  Miss  Eve  will  find  she  must 
turn  over  a  new  leaf  for  the  future." 

D'Arville  said  nothing — his  heart  was  far  too  sore 
and  bitter  for  mere  words.  "When  they  entered  the 
house  and  stood  in  the  upper  hall,  on  the  way  to  their 
apartments,  he  stopped  at  his  door  and  held  out  his  hand 
to  Una. 

"  Good  night.  Miss  Forest,"  he  said  ;  "let  mo  thank 

you  now  for  all  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me  since  I 

liave  been  in  this  house.    Be  good  to  this  poor  little  girl, 

and  try  and  comfort  her,  if  you  can." 
14 


8U 


A     MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


He  was  gone,  and  his  door  was  shut.  Una  stood 
looking  at  it  with  a  puzzled  face. 

"  What  does  he  mean — thanking  me  now,  and  with 
that  look  !  He  cannot  mean  to  go — Oh,  pshaw  I  of 
course  not !  come  along,  Hazel !" 

She  drew  Hazel  along  to  her  room — poor  Hazel,  who 
did  nothing  but  cry,  and  began  early  preparing  for  bed. 

"Don't  be  a  baby,"  was  her  consolatory  address, 
"  wipe  your  eyes  and  go  to  bed  !  Let  Mr.  Schaffer  go — 
he  was  only  fooling  you  all  the  time,  and  everybody  saw 
it  but  yourself !" 

**  Oh,  I  wish  I  was  dead — I  do  !"  was  Hazel's  wicked 
but  natural  cry,  her  passionate  sobs  only  increasing  for 
their  comfort.    "  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  never  been  born  !'' 

There  was  another  in  a  room  near,  who,  thougli  ho 
shed,  no  tears,  uttered  no  cry,  was  perhnps  wishing  the 
same  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart.  He  was  on  his 
knees,  not  in  prayer,  alas  !  but  packing  his  trunk,  hus- 
tling everything  in  in  a  heap,  as  men  do.  It  did  not 
take  long — the  trunk  was  packed,  locked,  strapped,  so 
was  his  portmanteau,  and  then  he  sat  down  at  the  table 
to  write.     It  was  a  letter,  and  a  short  one. 


"Sir: — Pardon   my  hasty  departure,   but  circum- 
Btances  render  it  unavoidable.     I  desire  nu  remuuoration 


A    MOONLIGHT    INTERVIEW. 


815 


for  tbo  short  time  I  luive  served  yon.      Miss  Forest  may 
pprlinps  oxphiin  matters  more  fully. 

"  Yours,  respectfully,  Claude  D'Arvillb." 

The  note  was  atldrcssed  to  Mr.  Hazlewood.  Then, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  hegan  another. 

"My  Dear  ]Miss  Forest  : — After  the  scene  we  wit- 
nessed to-night,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  remain  longer 
at  Ilazclwood.  I  leave  by  the  first  train  this  morning, 
for  London — from  there  I  will  send  an  address  to  which 
my  baggage  can  be  forwarded.  Thanking  you  once 
more  for  your  })ast  kindnes.s,  and  begging  you  to  be  kind 
to  poor  Ilazel,  I  remain  your  sincere  friend, 

"0.  D'Arville." 

The  gray  dawn  was  creeping  in  pale  and  cold  as  ho 
sealed  this  List  and  arose.  He  put  on  an  overcoat  for  the 
air  was  chill,  took  his  traveling  bag  in  his  hand,  and  went 
down  the  grand  staircase,  and  out  of  the  great  hall-door 
of  the  Ilazclwood  mansion. 

And  so,  while  Eve  slept  and  dreamed  rosy  dreams  of 
to-morrow,  the  gray  and  dreary  dawn  of  that  to-morrow 
saw  him  of  whom  she  dreamed,  flying  from  her  as  fast  as 
steam  could  carry  him,  to  the  busy  world  of  London. 


816 


A    STORMY    DAT, 


CHAPTER    XX. 


A  STORMY  DAY. 


I'  ' 


I:    I 


^AIN  lashing  the  windows,  rain  drenching  the 
grass,  rain  dripping  from  the  trees,  rain 
bhirriug  and  blotting  out  everything  in  a 
pale  blank  of  sodden  mist,  and  a  high  gale  driving  it  in 
slanting  lines  before  it — that  was  what  Eve  saw,  looking 
from  her  chamber-window,  next  morning.  A  change 
had  come  over  the  night,  and  the  cloudless  sky  and  bril- 
liant moonlight  had  been  followed  by  a  drear  and  dis- 
mal day.  A  gloomy  prospect  Eve's  dark  eyes  looked  on 
the  deserted  avenue,  the  splashy  country  road  beyond, 
the  storm-beaten  trees,  writhing  and  tossing  their  long 
arms  aloft,  and  the  weird  blast  shrieking  tlirough  them 
with  a  wild,  half-human  sort  of  cry.  But  the  heart 
makes  its  own  sunshine,  and  Eve  was  singing  half 
unconscious,  with  a  smile  on  her  face  like  a  happy  child, 
singing  a  snatch  of  the  sweet  ballad  somebody — her 
somebody  had — sung  months  ago,  at  Madame  SchafEer's 
fUe : 


A    STORMY    DAT. 


817 


"Ellcu  Atlair  she  loved  mo  well, 

Against  lier  futlicr  and  tnotlier'3  will. 
To-day  I  sat  for  iiu  hour  and  wept, 

By  Ellen's  grave  on  the  windy  hill. 
Shy  she  was,  and  I  thought  her  proud — 

Thougiit  her  cold,  and  fled  o'er  the  sea; 
Filh^d  was  I  with  folly  and  spite, 

Wiien  Ellen  Adair  was  dying  for  me. 
Cruel,  cruel  were  the  words  I  said, 

Cruel  came  tiiey  back  to  me." 

She  stopped  sliorfc,  and  dropped  the  curtiiin  over  the 
window  with  a  delicious  little  shiver. 

"What  a  song  for  nio  to  sing  this  morning  !  Oh, 
how  happy  I  am,  and  how  good  every  one  is  to  me  ! 
What  a  thankful  heart  I  ought  to  have  to  the  Author  of 
all  good  gifts  !" 

There  was  a  picture  over  her  bed— "Christ  Blessing 
Little  Children."  Eve's  face  grew  grave  and  reverent  as 
sho  lifted  her  eyes  to  that  divine  countenance,  so  sublimo 
in  its  calm  majesty  ;  and  kneeling  down,  sho  bowed  her 
face  in  her  hands  to  say  her  morning  prayers.  So  long 
sho  knelt,  that  ten  struck  from  the  loud-voiced  clock  in 
the  hall  without,  and  a  tap  at  the  door  only  answered 
her  at  last.  She  rose  and  opened  it,  and  saw  one  of  the 
housemaids  standing  there. 

'*  Oh,  is  it  yon,  ]\rary  ?"  Eve  said.  "I  suppose  you 
have  come  to  tell  me  breakfast  is  ready  ?" 


^'^ 


818 


A    STORMY    DAT. 


"Yes,  miss,  and  Miss  Forest  is  waiting.  Is  your  face 
better  this  morning,  miss?" 

"Much  better,  thank  you.  Tell  Miss  Forest  I  will 
bo  down  in  a  moment." 

"  She  had  taken  the  disfiguring  court-plaster  off,  and 
only  a  few  red  scratches  remained.  Eve  took  a  parting 
peep  at  herself  in  the  glass,  to  make  sure  that  her  curls 
were  smooth  and  her  collar  straight ;  and  thought,  with 
a  smile  and  a  blusli,  as  she  ran  down-stairs,  she  would 
not  look  so  very  frightful  in  his  eyes,  after  all.  She 
might  have  spared  herself  the  trouble.  Una  Forest  only 
was  in  the  room,  standing  at  the  table,  wailing.  One 
look  at  her  face  scut  a  chill  to  Eve's  bounding  heart  ; 
and  had  it  been  carved  out  of  an  iceberg  or  a  snow- 
wreath,  it  could  not  have  been  whiter  or  colder.  Iler  thin 
pale  lips  were  cold,  compressed,  smileless  ;  her  eyes  as 
devoid  of  light  or  warmth  as  the  sapphire  stone  ;  and 
even  the  rustle  of  her  Quakerish  gray  dress  had  some- 
thing chilling  and  repellent  in  its  sound.  Where  wag 
the  kind,  motherly,  warm-hearted  Una  Forest  of  last 
? 

tnoonli 


night  ?    Had   she   been   a  changeling   of  the   radiant 


ight. 


gone 


"I  have  kept  you  waiting,  I  am  afraid,"    Eve  fal- 
tered, her  air-castles  shivering  on  their  frail  foundation. 


A     STORMY    DAT. 


810 


**Yos,"  Miss  Forest  coldly  said,  "you  have.  Be 
good  enough  to  take  yonr  place." 

She  poured  out  the  coffee  and  passed  the  toast  in  a 
manner  that  effectually  took  away  Eve's  appetite  ;  but 
indignation  was  coming  to  her  aid  now,  and  giving  her 
courage.  Misji  Forest,  watching  her  as  a  cat  does  some 
unfortunate  mouse  it  is  going  to  devour  presently,  saw  a 
hot  red  spot  coming  into  cither  cheek,  and  a  bright 
angry  liglit  in  either  evi'.  What  had  slio  done  to  be 
troaU'il  like  tlii.s  ?  Slie  iiad  committed  no  crime,  that 
she  need  be  afniid.  She  would  speak,  and  show 
^riss  Forest  she  was  no  slave  of  her  humors  and. 
whims. 

"  AVhere  is  Cousin  Ilazcl  ?"  she  demanded,  looking 
up. 

Una  Forest's  pale  blue  orbs  met  the  bright  black 
ones  with  a  glance  so  cold,  so  stern,  so  severe,  and  so 
prolonged,  that  the  outraged  crimson  rose  in  a  (iery  tide 
to  Eve's  brow. 

"  You  want  to  know  where  Miss  Wood  is,  do  you  ?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Forest." 

"Then  she  is  in  my  room,  where  she  has  been  all 
night,  too  ill  to  leave  it." 

Eve  rose  ]ireeipitatcly. 


320 


A    STORMY    DAY. 


**  IIiizcl  sick  !  When — how — what  is — Misa  Forest, 
I  must  go  to  her  at  once  !" 

Miss  Forest  pushed  usiilo  her  plulo  iind  cup,  tind  rose, 
too. 

**  I  beg  your  pardon.  You  will  do  notliing  of  the 
kind." 

"Miss  Forest!" 

"  ^Miss  Ilazclwood — if  tliat  bo  your  unmo — T  am  mis- 
tress here,  I  think,  aud  accustomed  to  be  obeyed.  You 
do  not  set  foot  in  my  room,  eitlicr  to-day  or  any  other 
day,  while  you  see  fit  to  remain  at  Hazelwood 
Hall  1" 

Eve  stood  looking  at  her,  utterly  confounded.  Had 
Miss  Forest  suddenly  gone  mad  ?  The  cold  sweet,  voice 
of  that  pale  little  lady  broke  the  brief  silence. 

"You  thought  no  one  whs  watching  you  last  night, 
doubtless,  when  you  held  that  shameful  interview. 
You  thought  the  lie  you  acted  would  never  bo  discov- 
ered ;  but  both  are  known  now,  and  so  are  you,  you 
wicked  and  sliamclcss  girl  !  And  yet,  after  it  all,  you 
can  dare  to  stand  and  look  mo  in  the  face  like  this ! 
Oh,  I  could  blush  for  you,  so  young  and  so  depraved  !" 

"Stand  and  look  her  in  the  face  !" 

Eve's  great  dark  eyes  were  dilating  in  utter  bewilder- 


A    STOIiMY    DAT. 


821 


mopt,  to  twice  their  iiatiinil  size,  while  every  truce  of 
color  was  slowly  fading  fnmi  luf  face. 

**Go  to  your  room,  ikjw,"  Miss  Forest's  pitiless  voice 
continued,  as  she  moved  to  the  door;  "to  one  more 
injured  than  I,  I  leave  the  task  of  upbraiding  you.  Go 
to  your  room,  unhappy  girl,  and  remain  there  until  sent 
for." 

She  was  gone,  but  Eve  never  moved.  She  stood 
literally  rooted  to  the  spot,  so  coni[)letely  lost  in  wonder, 
so  utterly  dumbfounded  by  this  amazing  and  vague 
charge  of  crime,  that  she  scarcely  knew  whether  she 
wore  asleep  or  awake.  She  passed  her  hand  over  her 
face  in  a  bewildered  way. 

"  What  does  she  mean  ?  What  did  she  say  I  had 
done  ?"  she  asked  herself,  confusedly.  "  I  don't  under- 
stand at  all !  Go  to  my  room,  and  stay  there !  What 
will  I  do  that  for  ?  I  will  not  do  it.  No,  I  will  not ! 
If  Miss  Forest  has  not  gone  mad,  I  will  find  out  what 
she  means." 

Indignation  had  come  to  the  rescue  again.  Eve's 
spirit,  naturally  bright,  flashed  up  in  her  pale  face, 
kindling  a  rod  glow  there,  and  blazed  like  black  flame  in 
the  flashing  eyes.  Impetuously  she  started  after  Miss 
Forest,  but  Miss  Forest  was  not  to  be  found.     She  had 


823 


A    STORMY    DAT. 


given  a,  brief  order  about  dinner,  and  had  gone  away, 
and  the  servants  knew  nothing  of  her.  With  a  step  tliat 
rnng  and  rebounded,  Eve  marched  across  the  upper 
hall,  and  knocked  at  her  door.  There  was  no  answer  ; 
and  though  she  knocked  again  and  again,  it  was  all 
labor  lost.  Eve  stood  and  listened,  the  angry  blood 
coursing  tumultuou!?ly  through  every  throbbing  vein. 

"She  is  in  there,  I  know,"  was  her  thought,  "and 
she  hears  me  well  enough.  I  shall  not  stir  from  here 
until  she  comes  out,  if  I  have  to  wait  the  whole  day 
long." 

Too  excited  to  stand  still,  the  girl  began  pacing  rap- 
idly and  vehemently  up  and  down  the  long  hall,  watch- 
ing the  door  that  never  opened.  No,  indeed  ;  why 
should  it?  when  there  was  another  door  witiiiii  that 
chamber  communicating  with  the  lower  hall,  of  which 
she  knew  nothing.  So  Eve  trod  up  and  down  like  a 
young  Pythoness  going  into  training  for  expeditions  as 
an  Amazon  sentry,  while  Miss  Hazel  was  serenely  attend- 
to  her  duties  down-stairs.  So,  while  hour  after  liour  of 
the  dark  and  rainy  day  wore  on.  Eve  paced  her  lonely 
beat  undisturbed — for  not  even  the  housemaid  came 
near  her — until  she  grew  so  completely  oxliausted  that 
she  could  walk  no  longer.      Even  then  she  would  not 


A     STOltMY    DAY. 


823 


leave,  so  sure  was  she  that  tliore  was  some  one  within  ; 
but  seated  lieivelf  witliin  the  wiile  window-ledge,  at  the 
end  of  tlu'  hall,  and  gazed  out  at  the  bleared  and  deso- 
late evening,  with  all  its  own  gloom  on  her  face.  Oh, 
wiiero  was  D'Ai'villc  ?  Wiiere  was  Hazel  ?  Had  they 
all  deserted  her  together  ?  Had  they  all  gone  crazed 
with  Una  Fore.-t  ? 

8ix  struck  from  the  hall-clock.  A  voice  at  her  ear 
an  instant  after  made  her  start :  but  it  was  only  the 
servant  who  had  come  to  her  in  the  morning,  and  whom 
she  had  not  heard  cross  the  hall. 

"Miss  Eve,  Miss  Forest  wants  to  know  if  you  will 
come  down  to  dinner  ?" 

"Miss  Foro.st;  is  she  in  lier  own  room  ?" 

"Ohilearno,  niiss  ;  she's  been  down-stairs  all  day." 

Ev(!  ])assril  iuM'  lijind  to  her  throbbing  forehead. 

"And  is  it  I  who  am  going  insane  ?"  she  thought. 

"You  look  i)oor]y,  Mi<s ;  yonr  face  is  as  white 
as  a  sheet,"  the  girl  said  liityingly,  for  all  in  the 
honse  liked  the  bright-eyed,  pleasant-voiced  young 
American  girl.  "  I'm  afraid  you've  caught  cold  up 
in  this  damp,  nasty  'all,  which  ii's  as  drafty  as  ever  it  cau 
be.  Do  come  down  and  take  your  dinner  comfortably, 
Miss  Eve." 


3U 


A    SrORMT    DAY. 


Eve  rose  passively  to  follow  her,  her  head  all  con- 
fused, feeling  as  if  some  one  had  struck  her  a  blow  and 
stunned  lier.     **  Is  Miss  Forest  alone  ?"  she  asked. 

"No,  miss;  Miss  Hazel  is  with  licr,  and  you  can  t 
sec  an  eye  in  her  'ead  for  crying,  wliatevcr  be  tlie 
matter." 

Eve  said  no  more — Hazel  in  trouble  too — it  was  all 
of  a  piece  with  the  rest — all  a  mystery  to  her.  Sliss 
Forest  turned  sharply  upon  her  the  moment  she 
entered. 

"I  wish,  Miss  Evo  Hazelwood,  you  would  come  to 
attend  your  meals  in  proper  season,  and  not  keep  mo 
waiting  and  the  servants  tramping  all  over  the  house 
for  you  !  Mary,  go  up  to  Mr.  D'Arville's  room,  and  ask 
him  if  he  will  please  descend  to  dinner." 

Eve's  heart  bounded.  Oli,  he  was  coming  at  last ; 
he  who  never  could  be  cruel  or  unjust,  whose  love  would 
shield  her,  whose  strength  would  support  her,  whose 
clear  brain  would  find  out  what  all  this  dreadful  mystery 
of  unkindness  meant.  Then  her  eye  fell  on  Hazel,  who 
sat  in  a  corner  ;  her  ruddy  face  pale ;  her  laughing  brown 
eye  red  and  swollen  ;  her  bright,  round,  good-natured  face 
clouded  and  sullen.  Yes,  sullen — tluit,  lam  sorrf  '  >  say, 
is  the  only  word  for  it.    Hazel  had  crieu  until  ph:  lould 


•    •». 


A     STORMY    DAY. 


825 


cry  no  longer,  and  had  now  relapsed  into  a  state 
of  unmitigated  sulkiness.  Eve  went  over  eagerly  to 
her. 

"Hazel  dear,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  Are  you 
sick — are  you  in  trouble  ?" 

She  laid  her  hand  on  Hazel's  shoulder,  Init  that 
young  lady  started  up  and  flung  it  off  violently. 

"  Don't  touch  me  !  don't  come  near  me,  you  mean, 
underhand,  deceitful,  treacherous,  lying  tiling!  I  hate 
you — there — " 

A  hysterical  outburst  of  sobs  wound  uji  the  outburst 
of  temper.  Eve  recoiled  as  if  she  had  been  struck  in 
the  face,  and  a  malicious  smile  dawned  on  the  thin  lips 
of  Una  Forest.  Mary  came  suddenly  in  with  a  startled 
face  and  two  letters  in  her  hand. 

"Oh,  if  you  please,  Miss  Forest,"  slie  began  vehe- 
mently, "  Mr.  D'Arvillo  is  not  in  his  rooui  at  all,  and 
his  bed  hasu't  been  slept  in  all  night,  and  his  trunk  and 
things  is  all  packed,  and  here's  two  letti'rs  as  I  found 
on  his  table;  and  if  you  ])lease,  miss,  I  do  think  as  how 
he's  boon  and  gone  away." 

Una  Forest  crossed  the  room  and  snatched  the  letters 
out  of  the  girl's  hand.  That  she  was  excited,  could  lie 
seen  ;  for  the  lingers  that  tore  open  the  one  adressed  to 


326 


A    STORM V    DAT. 


hersell  •  '  od  perceptibly.  As  she  read  it,  she  uttered 
a  sharp  d  aery  of  bitter  di.sanpointmeut  and  morti- 
fication. Gone  left  her  !  never  to  return,  in  all  likeli- 
hood !  "Was  this  what  she  had  plotted  and  planned  for 
— was  this  the  way  she  was  to  turn  him  against  Eve, 
and  keep  him  at  her  own  side — was  this  the  end  of  all 
her  schemes?  Surely,  her  cunning  had  overshot  tho 
mark,  and  she  had  been  foiled  with  her  own  weapons. 

"Gone  !"  she  cried  out,  "where  did  he  go  ?  Some 
of  the  servants  must  have  seen  him  !    Mary — " 

But  the  address  was  interrupted  by  another  cry, 
more  startled  than  her  own,  and  Eve  was  by  her  side. 

*•  Gone  !"  she  echoed,  her  lips  pale,  her  eyes  wild. 
"  Gone,  Miss  Forest !  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Mr. 
D'Arville  has  left  Ilazelwood  ?" 

Una  Forest  turned  upon  her  like  a  tigress,  her  eyes 
flashing  blue  flame,  her  whole  face  livid  with  suppres- 
sed passion. 

"  Ho  has  gone  !  lie  has  left  Hazelwoorl  forever,  and 
it  is  you  wlu)  have  driven  him  from  it  !  You,  you 
wicked,  you  shameless,  you  disgraceful  creature!  H*^ 
has  gone,  hating,  despising,  abhorring  you,  as  we  all  do 
now.  Don't  look  at  me  so,  you  vilo  girl  !  with  your  mis- 
erable white  faco  !     Go  to  tho  man  you  met  by  night  in 


A    STORMY   DAY. 


827 


the  grounds  ;  go  to  Paul  Schaffcr  now,  and  exult  with 
him  over  your  work." 

Eve  stood  motionless,  paralyzed,  dumb.  Mary  stood 
with  eyes  and  mouth  agape,  Hazel  looked  up  with  a 
frightened  face,  but  Una  Forest  had  lost  the  self-control 
of  a  life  in  an  instant ;  the  tide  of  passion,  so  seldom 
moved  in  that  stagnant  breast,  all  the  more  powerful 
for  that  very  reason,  swept  everything  beford  its  resist- 
less force.  Five  minutes  later,  slio  might  be  her  own 
calm,  ladylike,  coldly  severe  self  again  ;  now  she  was 
mad — mad  with  rage,  jealousy,  and  disappointment.  Now 
she  must  speak  or  die. 

"You  !"  she  half-screamed,  "you  wretched,  depen- 
dent, nameless  thing — living  on  tlie  bounty  of  strangers 
— you,  a  miserable  beggar,  for  all  your  airs  and  graces — 
you,  lower  than  the  servants  who  wait  on  you,  for  they 
are  honest,  at  least — ^you,  with  no  right  to  the  name  you 
have  tlisgracoil,  whose  motlicr  was  a  wretched  street- 
wallcer  of  Now  York — you,  who,  springing  from  the 
filth  and  scum  of  the  city-streets,  dare  to  reign  hero 
like  a  queen,  and  yet  show  tlio  scum  and  dregs  you 
spring  from,  by  night  and  by  stealth,  it  is  you,  you,  who 
have  driven  him  from  the  house,  to  which  he  liad  far 
more  riglvt   tluin   yourself,    in  which  you   never  were 


328 


A    STOnMT    DAT. 


wanted,  from  which  you  should  have  been  sent  long  ago 
to  earn  your  living,  like  any  other  pauper.  I  tell  you, 
girl,  I  hate  and  despise  you,  and  shall  never  rest  until 
yon  are  turned  from  tlio  house  you  have  disgraced  ;  and 
then  let  the  man  you  met  by  stealth  protect  you,  or  else 
follow  your  vile  outcast  mother's  example,  and — " 

But  she  did  not  finish  !  There  had  been  one  wild, 
wild  shriek  from  Eve,  and  then  she  had  turned  and  fled 
from  the  room,  from  the  house,  like  a  mad  creature. 
Mad  !  for  the  time  being  she  was  so — the  terrible  words 
of  Una  Forest  were  ringing  in  her  ears  like  death-knells, 
seared  on  her  brain  in  letters  of  fire.  She  was  conscious 
of  nothing,  only  one  wild,  frantic,  delirious  idea  of 
flying  very  far  away,  anywhere — anywhere  out  of  the 
reach  of  that  serpent-tongue.  She  knew  not  where  she 
was  going,  wliat  she  was  doing,  only  that  they  had 
driven  her  wild. 

And  so  she  fled  on.  Night  was  falling  fast,  a 
drenching  rain  with  it,  and  evertliing  was  blurred  in  a 
mist  of  sudden  fog.  Ileaven  and  earth  were  dark  Jilike, 
but  she  saw  not  the  darkness ;  her  liead  was  bare,  her 
long  hair  fluttering  in  the  night-wind,  but  she  felt  no 
cold,  heeded  not  the  soaking  rain.  Stumbling,  slipping, 
falliug,  rising,  and  flying  on  again,  that  frantic  figure 


c 

t 
u 


BLACK    MONK'S. 

mshed  through  the  night  and  the  storm,  on  and  on,  and 
over,  a  very  maniac,  until  at  last  exliausted  nature  gave 
way,  and  she  sank  down,  prone  on  her  face,  on  the 
soaking  grass.  SJie  never  thought  were  slie  was;  in 
tliat  first  delirium  she  did  not  care.  And  so  there,  with 
the  dismal  night  falling,  with  tlie  ruin  drenching  her 
tlirough  and  through,  Eve  llazolwood,  wlio  had  risen 
that  morning  happy,  loving,  and  beloved,  lay  at  night  a 
homeless,  friendless  outcast. 

Oh,  truly  has  it  l)cen  said,  "Wo  know  not  what  a 
day  may  bring  fortli." 


CHAPTER    XXT. 

BLACK  monk's. 

TIE  did  not  faint ;  lying  there  prostrate,  with 
ilie  rain  beating  upon  her,  and  the  wind 
lluttering  licr  hair  and  garments— she  was 
yet  eonscioii;^  Perhaps  it  was  that  very  wind  and  rain, 
cooling  her  burning  brow,  that  kept  lier  so  ;  but  for  a 
time  nature  was  so  completely  exhausted,  that  she  was 
unable  to  move.     Tlien  slowly,  as  the  first  mad  excite 


830 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


mcnt  and  delirium  died  out,  all  the  horror  of  her  situa- 
tion dawned  upon  her.  It  was  niglit — a  tempest  was 
raging,  she  was  friendless  and  homeless — without  where 
to  lay  her  head.  Must  she  stay  in  this  dreadful  place 
all  night  ? — must  she  lie  liore  and  die  ?  Oh,  if  death 
would  only  come  at  once  !  Eve  wislied  for  it  then,  as 
we  all  do  wish  for  it  in  our  first  moments  of  sinful  des- 
pair. What  was  there  left  to  live  for  now  ?  All  love — 
and  love  makes  up  all  that  is  worth  living  for  to  some — 
had  faded  out  of  her  life,  and  why  should  she  wish  to 
drag  on  a  dreary  and  unloved  life  ?  Ah  !  Eve  could  not 
remember  tlien,  in  lior  first  bitterness  of  despair,  that 

"There  is  a  love  tliat  never  fails  . 
When  earthly  loves  decay." 

Heaven  and  earth,  that  dismal  night,  looked  black 
alike, 

A  clock  struck  nine — the  clock  of  the  village  chxtrch. 
She  was  in  Monkswood  then,  and  near  shelter  if  she 
chose  to  ask  for  it.  She  raised  herself  on  her  elbow, 
puslicd  back  the  dripi)iiig  masses  of  hair  from  her  face, 
and  looked  round.  Lights  twinkled  in  the  distance — 
stars  of  hope — from  tlic  cottage-windows. 

Eve  was  well  known  in  Monkswood.  She  had  I)een 
good  to  more  than  one  poor  sufferer  there  ;  her  bright 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


881 


face  had  made  Bunshino  in  many  a  poor  homo  :  hor 
sweet  voice  had  whispered  hope  in  many  a  sorrowful  ear; 
her  princely  hand  and  heart  had  shared  with  them  the 
last  farthing  she  possessed.  Yes,  she  could  not  die  on 
the  roadside  this  terrible  night ;  she  would  go  to  some  of 
these  humble  homes  until  to-morrow  should  come,  and 
then  she  would  fly — she  knew  not  whither,  cared  not 
either,  so  that  it  was  far  from  Ilazclwood. 

Faint,  dizzy,  staggering,  the  girl  rose  up  and  toiled 
slowly  on  through  tlie  darkness  and  tlie  rain.  Now  that 
the  feverish  excitement  hud  passed  away,  the  false 
strength  it  had  lent  her  had  gone  with  it,  and  she  was  so 
weak  she  could  hardly  totter.  She  had  eaten  nothing 
since  early  morning,  and  at  tlie  first  cottage  she  came  to, 
she  dropped  down  on  the  doorstep,  feeling  that,  if  her 
life  depended  on  it,  she  coukl  not  go  one  more  step. 

It  was  a  poor  place  tliis  cottage  with  tliin  doors  and 
curtainless  windows.  Eve  could  hear  voices  within,  and 
one — i  he  voice  of  a  man — had  a  strangely-familiar  sound. 
Slio  tried  to  think  wlio  it  was  ;  but  hor  head  felt  all 
wrong  and  confused — memory  would  not  come  to  her 
aid.  She  rose  up  ■'^gain,  resolved  to  see,  before  she  asked 
for  shelter  ;  it  might  be  one  of  those  cruel  enemies  she 
had  left,  for  all  she  could  tell.     The  little  window  was 


883 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


uncurfcained,  tlio  room  bright  with  firo  and  candle-light 
— as  humblo  within  as  without,  too  ;  but  Eve  saw 
nothing  of  that — her  eyes  wore  fixed  on  its  tlirco  occu- 
pants. Surely,  that  old  Avoman  on  the  stool  in  front  of 
the  firo  had  a  strangely-familiar  face.  Where  had  she 
seen  her  before  ?  And  that  man — that  fall  gentleman, 
wearing  that  well-known  cloalc,  must  bo  Senor  i\rendez, 
her  Cuban  friend. 

And  that  third  face — ah  !  what  sight  of  horror  was 
that  ;  her  own  face  looking  straiglit  back  at  her  ;  her 
own  face  as  she  saw  it  every  day  in  the  glass.  There 
was  a  shrill  shriek  of  affright,  a  heavy  fall,  and  Eve 
Hazelwood  had  fainted  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  ! 

What  a  strangely  confused  and  bewildered  feeling 
is  the  return  of  consciousness  after  a  swoon.  Gentle- 
men, perhaps,  not  being  of  tlio  fainting  sex,  know  very 
little  about  it ;  but  their  sister-sufferers,  being  used  to 
it,  know  the  dizzy,  disagreeable,  distressed  sense  of 
vague  bewilderment  with  which  life  and  recollection 
comes  back.  Everthing  looks  unusual,  the  most 
familiar  objects  unfamiliar  ;  voices  at  our  ear  sound  far 
off,  and  the  well-known  home-faces  strange  and  vision- 
ary like  the  rest.  But  when  the  fainter  comes  to  in  a 
strange  room,  where  everything  is  really  unfamiliar — 


BLACK    MONK' 8. 


833 


furniture,  faces,  voices  and  all — tliou  she  is  indeed,  an 
object  of  pity.  It  was  Eve's  case,  as  she  rose  ^x\^  and 
looked  round  Iier.  What  large  room  was  tliis,  with  its 
strange,  antique  furniture,  its  black  oil-paiutings,  its 
wood  fire  burning  on  a  marble  hearth,  its  tall  wax  can- 
dles flaring  on  an  inlaid  table,  its  huge  tented  bedstead 
looking  like  a  house  ?  Who  Averc  tiiese  three  tall  men 
looking  at  her,  one  of  tlieni  sitting  beside  her  holding 
her  wrist  ?  and  who  was  that  elderly  lady  in  black 
dress  and  snow-white  cap,  watching  her  Avith  such  kind, 
compassionate  eyes  ?  Wliat  had  hajipcncd,  and  where 
could  she  bo  ?  She  moaned  out  sometiung  vaguely  to 
that  effect,  as  she  passed  her  hand  over  her  forehead 
piteously,  trying,  poor  child  to  clear  her  mental 
vision. 

"All  right  now,"  said  the  gentleman  holding 
her  wrist,  dropping  it  and  putting  a  glass  to  her  lipa  ; 
"I  said  you  would  come  to  presently  !  Drink  this,  my 
dear,  and  you  will  be  as  well  as  ever." 

Eve  drank  as  submissively  as  a  little  child.  It  was 
port  wine,  and  helped  her  at  once.  Slie  looked  again 
at  the  man  beside  her,  with  new-born  resignation  in  her 
gi'eat  bright  eye. 

"  Are  you  Mr.  llohucs  ?"  she  asked 


834 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


"Of  course,  I  am,  my  tloiir  Miss  Iluzclwood,"  an- 
swered tlie  villiigo-snrgcon.  "IIow  do  you  fcol  now? 
Like  ii  giant  refreshed — eli  ?" 

"  1  feel  better,  tliunk  you,"  very  faintly  ;  •*  tliough 
please  to  tell  mo  wliere  I  am  ?" 

"In   a  very  nice    place   Miss  Eve,    Black    Monk' 
Priory  I" 

"  Black  Monk's  !    Why— how— " 

"There,  don't  get  fidgety  now.  You  fainted,  you 
know,  and  wo  found  you  as  dead  as  a  door-nail ;  carried 
you  off  hero,  and  brought  you  to  life  again.  For 
further  explanation,  I  must  refer  you  to  this  gentleman 
here." 

The  gentleman  thus  evoked  stepped  forward  and 
bent  over  her.  Eve  grasped  his  hand,  with  a  glad  cry — 
it  was  good  to  see  that  familiar  face,  where  all  was  so 
strange  and  new. 

"Senor  Mendcz,"  she  cried  out,  holding  his  kind 
hands.     "  Oh,  I  am  glad  you  are  here  1" 

"  My  own  little  Eve !"  ho  said,  a  little  huskily, 
"thank  Heaven,  you  are  conscious  again.  You  feel 
better,  do  you  not  ?" 

"  Oh  yes !  but  I  Avant  to  know  how  I  camo  here  1 
When  did  I  faint,  and  what  made  me  ?" 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


m 


Senor  Mondoz  turned  to  tho  third  gentleman  still  ia 
the  Ijuckground. 

"My  lord,  if  you  and  Mr.  Holmes  will  kindly  leave 
me  alone  with  Miss  ILizolwood,  for  a  few  moments,  I 
will  give  her  all  tho  explanation  she  requii- 'S,  It  will  be 
better  for  her  to  know  at  once  than  work  herself  into  a 
fever  with  wondering." 

"Of  course,"  said  Lord  Landsdowne,  courteously, 
"for  as  many  minutes  as  you  please.     Mrs.  Roberts." 

Mrs.  Roberts,  who  was  the  housekeeper  at  Black 
Monks,  obeyed  tho  hint,  and  followed  his  lordship  and 
tho  physician  out  the  room.  Senor  Mendez  took  the 
chair  beside  her,  and  looked  into  her  great  dark  eyes, 
fixed  so  wistfully  upon  him  with  a  smile.  There  was 
something  so  infinitely  kind  and  genial  in  his  face, 
something  so  protecting  and  reassuring  in  his  smile,  that 
Eve's  heart  went  out  to  him  in  a  great  cry. 

"  0  senor  I  what  does  it  all  mean  !  Am  I  going 
mad  ?    Will  you  turn  against  me,  too  ?" 

"My  dear  child  !  turn  against  you  !  why  should  I  P" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  !  I  have  not  done  anything  that 
I  know  of,  but  they  all  have  turned  from  me — they  all 
hate  me  now  !  I  have  no  friend  left  in  all  the  wide 
world,  I  think  1" 


886 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


"  Not  evou  mo,  Eve  ?" 

Slio  looked  at  him  earnestly,  longingly  ;  trutli,  honor, 
manliness,  frieudlines — nay,  love  shone  in  those  deep 
dark  eyes,  in  that  gentle  smile,  in  that  tender  handclasp. 
Yes,  Eve  had  one  friend  left !  Her  face  told  him  so, 
and  his  pleasant  smile  deepened. 

"Thank  you,  my  little  girl,"  ho  said,  as  if  she  had 
spoken.  "  You  arc  not  quite  deserted  yet !  And  now 
tell  me  what  they  have  been  doing  to  you  at  Hazclwood 
— I  think  I  half  guess,  though." 

*'  I  can't  tell  you  what  they  have  been  doing  to  mo — 
only  that  they  have  all  turned  against  me,  and  Miss 
Forest — oh,"  Eve  cried,  passionately,  "how  shall  I 
ever  forget  the  dreadful  things  she  said  ?" 

"  Humpli  !  it  wa.s  Miss  Forest,  then,  the  little  sleek, 
eharp-clawcd  cat !    What  did  she  say  to  yon.  Eve  ?" 

"Dreadful  tilings,  seuor,  and  Hazel  told  me,"  with 
a  choking  sob,  "that  she  hated  me." 

"  The  deuce  she  did  !  But  Miss  Forest,  what  did  she 
Bay  ?" 

"  Senor,  she  said  that  I — that  I — oh,  I  can't  tell 
you,"  cried  Eve,  suddenly,  covering  hor  face  with  her 
hands,  but  not  before  ho  saw  that  sensitive  face  turn 
scarlet. 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


337 


with 


she 


tell 
her 


turn 


**  Yes,  you  can,  Eve  !  remc<aber  I  am  your  only 
friend !  Tell  mo  all !  She  said  you  did  something 
Tcry  sliocking,  I  suppose  !     She  said  you — ?" 

*'  Seuor,  that  I  met  Monsieur  Schaffcr  in  the  grounds 
by  niglit,  and  by  stealth,  and  that  she,  and  Hazel,  and 
Monsieur  D'Arville  saw  me  with  him  there  !" 

Seuor  Meudez  gave  a  long  low  whistle. 

"  Whew  !  the  little  liar  I  and  what  did  Hazel  say  ?" 

"That  she  hated  me,  and  that  I  was  a  wicked, 
treacherous,  deceitful  creature !" 

"Forcible  language,  upon  my  word  !  These  little 
female  angels,  however,  have  the  devil's  own  tongue. 
And  Monsieur  D'Arville — surely,  he  denied  it !" 

"  Senor,"  Eve  said,  her  voice  trembling  pitiably,  "he 
has  gone  away  !" 

"Gone  !  where?" 

"To  London,  and  is  coming  back  uo  more."  And 
here  Eve's  courage  all  failed,  and  hei  voice  was  lost  in  a 
tempest  of  sobs.  The  Cuban  planter  looked  at  her  pity- 
ingly. 

"My  poor  Evo  I  they  have  been  conspiring  up  there, 
I  see  I     When  did  all  tliis  take  place  ?'* 

"  This  morning  at  breakfast,  senor,  Miss  Forest 
commenced.     I  did  not  see  her  all  day,  or  Hazel  either  ; 

15 


338 


BLACK   MONK'S. 


but  when  I  went  down  to  dinner.  Monsieur  D'Arville's 
letter,  telling  of  liis  dejiarture,  was  brought  her,  and  I 
think  it  set  her  wild  !  It  was  then  she  said  all  those 
terrible  things,  until  she  nearly  drove  me  mad." 

"And  you  rushed  out  into  the  storm  just  as  you 
were,  and  ran  until  you  could  run  no  longer,  I  sup- 


pose 


•3« 


"  Yes,  senor  1  And,  oh,  I  don't  know  .  t  all  what  it 
means,  for  I  never  left  my  room  last  nigh  .■" 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  tell  me  thai  !  ]  quite  under- 
stand, and  so  does  pretty  Miss  Forest,  that  you  never  set 
foot  in  the  grounds  with  Paul  Sf  haffer  I  Was  that  all 
she  said  to  you  ?" 

"No,  senor — she  spoke  of  my  mother,  of  my  dead 
mother,  whom  I  never  knew,  and  said  things  of  her  too 
frightful  to  repeat." 

"  The  little "  Senor  Mendez  ground   out    the 

rest  between  his  mustache,  "  said  she  was  no  better  than 
she  ought  to  be,  I  suppose.  Eve  ?" 

Eve  hid  her  face,  flushed  again.  But  she  was  pour- 
ing out  her  whole  heart  to  this  man,  and  could  not 
help  it. 

**  She  said  I  had  no  right  there— no  right  even  to  the 
name  I  bore." 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


839 


"  Indeed  I  Much  she  knows  about  it !  Did  she  say 
anything  of  your  father  ?" 

"No,  scnor,  she  never  spoke  of  him,  but,"  Eve  cried, 
struck  by  something  in  his  face,  "perhaps  you  knew 
him,  senor  !     Oil,  if  you  do — " 

"  ThcFC  !  there  !  don't  get  into  a  fright  now  !  I  did 
know  your  father  when  a  young  man,  but  never  much 
good  of  him.  Ho  was  a  young  scamp,  and  the  less  you 
know  about  him  the  better." 

Poor  Eve  1  there  was  no  ray  nf  hope  for  her  any 
where.     Her  eager  face  saddenen  .nA  darkened  again. 

"Then  perhaps  it  was  all  true  that  ^liss  Forest 
said  I" 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  Your  mother  was  a  bad  woman. 
Oh,  don't  start !  I  knew  all  about  her,  too ;  but  slio 
was  your  father's  wife,  as  fast  as  a  minister,  and  a  mur- 
ringc-cercmony,  and  a  wedding-ring  could  make  her. 
In  fact,  they  were  a  bad  lot,  both  of  them  ;  and  the  less 
you  find  out  about  thorn  the  better  for  your  state  of 
mind.  Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  and  so  on,  you 
know  !" 

There  was  a  table  near.  Eve  laid  her  arms  wearily 
upon  it,  and  dropped  her  poor  sad  face  thereon,  not  to 
let  him  see  the  tears  that  wore  raining  down. 


340 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


A  hand  was  laid  on  the  bowed  young  head,  with  a 
touch  as  tender  as  a  woman's. 

*'  Dear  child  !  don't  ciy  ;  it  will  all  come  right  after 
a  while ;  believe  me.  There  is  a  destiny  in  these  things, 
and  that  destiny  is  in  the  hands  of  One  as  merciful  as 
He  is  miglity.  Every  cloud  lias  its  silver  lining,  my  Eve. 
You  will  see  yours  glittering  through  the  darkness  yet  I 

Eve  turned  and  touched  her  lijis  to  the  caressing 
hand,  but  her  voice  was  too  choked  to  speak. 

"And  for  whom  wore  tliose  tears,  Eve  ?  Sacred  to 
the  memory  of  an  unworthy  father  and  mother,  or  a 
false  lover." 

"  He  is  not  false,"  Eve  said,  sobbing ;  "  but  he 
believes  me  guilty,  and  has  gone  for  ever." 

"  Let  him  g'^.  then  !  One  so  easily  deluded,  with  so 
little  faith  in  yon,  is  not  worthy  of  a  sigh.  Cheer  up, 
Eve  !  send  Una  Forest  and  Claude  D'Arville  au  diable, 
and  be  happy  in  spite  of  them.  I  am  going  now  ;  it  is 
getting  late  ;  but  I  will  bo  back  again  early  to-morrow 
morning.     And  so,  my  baby,  good  night !" 

What  a  strange  man  ho  was  .  But  Eve  liked  him 
and  his  hearty,  fatherly  manner;  and  once  alone  dropped 
where  she  sat  into  the  heavy  slumber  of  exhaustion,  and 
uever  woke  till  morning. 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


941 


The  red  sunrise  was  slanting  rosy  rays  through  the 
curtains  when  she  opened  her  black  eyes  in  this  mortal 
life  again,  a  little  still  and  tired  from  her  uncomfortable 
position,  but  thoroughly  refreshed,  and  her  own  bright- 
eyed,  clear-headed  self  again.  But  at  her  heart  the  dull 
pain  still  ached,  heavy  as  lead  it  still  lay  in  her  bosom  ; 
no  sleep  could  ever  chase  away  the  aching  there. 

She  drew  back  the  curtain  from  the  window  and 
looked  out.  Every  cloud  had  gone,  the  sun  was  shining 
in  a  sky  as  blue  and  cloudless  as — Una  Forest's  eyes  I 
Far  below  she  could  see  the  village  of  Monkswood  ;  the 
smoke  curling  up  from  the  cottage  chimneys,  and  the 
farms  out  over  the  road.  Right  below  her  was  a  rose- 
garden,  hot  with  scarlet  bloom,  and  the  birds  were 
piercing  the  air  witli  their  matin  hymns. 

It  was  all  very  charmiug,  and  Black  Monk's  was  a 
delightful  place,  but  how  came  she  in  it  ?  She  remem- 
bered now  she  had  not  found  that  out  last  night ;  she 
remembered  too,  with  a  thrill,  the  face,  so  awfully 
like  her  own,  and  she  knew  it  was  that  made  her 
faint. 

Slie  must  wait  now,  she  knew,  till  Sonor  ]\[ondcz 
came,  to  find  out  everything,  so  she  bathed  her  face, 
brushed  out  her  tangled  curls,  said  her  prayers — a  little 


pp 


313 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


more  fervently  than  usual,  perhaps — and  then  sat  down 
by  the  window  to  wait  and  think. 

A  clock,  somewhere  in  the  house,  struck  loudly  ten. 
As  its  last  echo  died  away,  there  was  a  knock  at  her 
door,  and  the  old  house-keeper  entered. 

"  Oh,  you  are  up  I"  she  said,  looking  pleased  ;  "and 
not  quite  so  much  like  a  corpse  as  you  were  last  night  I 
Do  you  feel  better  ?" 

"  Very  much  better,  thank  you." 

"  Will  you  have  breakfast  here,  or  will  you  come 
down  ?    My  lord  sent  me  up  to  see." 

'^Iwillgo  down,"  Eve  said,  in  some  trepidation. 
"Who  is — is  any  one  there  ?" 

"Only  his  lordship.  My  lady  won't  bo  back  for  a 
week." 

"Is  she  away  then  ?"  Eve  said,  very  much  relieved, 
for  she  instinctively  disliked  the  supercilious,  handsome 
Lady  Landsdowne. 

"  Yes,  miss,  she  started  for  London  yesterday  morn- 
ing.    This  is  the  breakfast  parlor." 

They  had  been  walking  through  a  long  hall  and 
down  a  great  flight  of  stairs  while  convci'sing,  and  soon 
the  old  lady  opened  a  door  and  ushered  Eve  into  a  large 
and  handsomely-furnished  parlor,  where  Lord  Lands- 


BLACK   MONK'S. 


843 


downe  and  a  well-spread  breakfast  tabic  were  alone. 
Ho  advanced  to  meet  her,  with  extended  hand  : 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  looking  so  much  better,  Miss 
Hazel  wood  !     I  trust  you  rested  well  last  night  ?" 

"Thank  you,  my  lord,"  said  Eve,  fiuding  the  title 
ratlicr  odd  to  her  American  tongue.  "  I  did,  I  feel  as 
well  as  ever  this  morning." 

"  That  is  right !  we  are  to  have  a  tete-a-tete  break- 
fast, I  Ond,  tliis  morning.  Lady  Landsdowne  is  in  Lon- 
don, and  SenorMendez  declined  my  invitation  to  break- 
fast.    Pray  bo  seated." 

If  Eve  had  never  known,  before,  that  wealth  and  rank 
do  not  constitute  happiness,  she  might  have  found  it 
out  that  morning  by  looking  at  Lord  Landsdowne's  face. 
It  was  the  face  of  a  saddened  and  disappointed  man,  of 
one  who  has  made  some  great  life-mistake.  Yet  it  was 
kindly  too  :  though  he  rarely  smiled,  its  deep  gravity 
was  gentle  ;  its  melancholy,  patient.  Eve  felt  sorry  for 
him  somehow,  without  very  well  knowing  why,  and  dis- 
liked the  absent  Lady  Landsdowne  more  than  ever. 

During  breakfast  they  talked  of  the  weather,  of  yes- 
terday's storm,  and  of  Black  Monk's. 

*'  Would  you  like  to  see  it  ?"  ho  asked  her,  as  they 
arose.     "It  is  rather  a  gloomy  old  place,  and  consider 


844 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


ably  out  of  repair,  but  still  worth  looking  at.  I  will  be 
your  cicerone,  if  you  like.  No  one  can  do  the  honors  of 
Black  Monk's  but  a  Landsdowne." 

So  they  went  througli  it — up  and  down  grand  old 
oaken  staircases,  through  dark  suites  of  painted  rooms, 
through  wainscoted  halls  until  Eve  was  tired  out.  It 
was  a  gloomy  place,  gloomier  than  Ilazelwood  even,  all 
but  one  suite  of  rooms.  They  were  my  lady's  ;  every- 
thing antique  had  been  removed — everything  modern, 
elegant,  and  costly  was  there.  Eve  had  never  seen  any- 
thing half  so  beautiful  before  ;  but  she  looked  in  vain 
for  one  thing — a  portrait  of  the  owner. 

"  Is  Lady  Landsdowne's  picture  not  here  ?"  she  asked 
at  length,  curiously;  "I  have  not  seen  it  anywhere  in 
the  house." 

"  No  ;  she  never  had  a  picture  taken — it  is  one  of 
her  whims ;  not  even  a  photograph.  And  now,  if  you 
are  not  too  tired,  will  you  take  a  stroll  through  the 
grounds  ?  The  fresh  air  will  do  you  good,  after  these 
damp  and  dreary  old  rooms." 

Eve  was  very  willing  to  leave  the  gloomy  house  for 
the  bright  sunshine  and  blessed  breeze  out  of  doors  ;  so, 
with  only  a  handkerchief  thrown  over  her  head,  she 
went  out  with  him  into  the  grounds.     Spacious  they 


I 


BLACK   MONK' 8. 


845 


of 


were  ;  roseries,  graperies,  deer-parks,  long  avenues  of 
stately  trees,  tliickly-vvooded  shrubberies,  everytliing 
old  and  grand  ;  but  someliow  the  same  show  of  gloom 
and  solitude  reigned  without  as  witliin.  Eve  admired 
and  praised  all,  as  she  could  not  help  doing,  but  she 
turned  away  with  a  feeling  of  relief  to  Senor  Mendez, 
galloping  up  the  avenue.  He  jumped  off  his  horse,  and 
raised  his  hat. 

"Allah  be  praised  !  the  dead  is  alive  again.  I  see 
quite  another  girl  to  the  ghost  of  last  night.  My  lord, 
was  it  coffee  or  the  elixir  of  life  you  gave  Miss  Hazel- 
wood  at  breakfast  this  morning  ?" 

Lord  Landsdowne  smiled,  as  he  turned  to  go. 

"I  shall  leave  Miss  Hazehvood  herself  to  answer  that 
question.    Au  revoir." 

"Here's  a  bench,"  said  Senor  Mendez  ;  "and  you  look 
tired,  I  think.     Sit  down  and  tell  me  how  you  feel." 

Evo  lifted  her  melancholy  dark  eyes  to  his  face  for  a 
moment  and  then  dropped  them  again. 

"  Oh,  I  see !  Very  lonely,  and  dreary,  and  sad  I 
How  do  you  like  Lord  Landsdowne  ?" 

"Very  much." 

"And  my  lady?" 

"  She  is  away." 
15* 


846 


BLACK    MONK'S, 


"  0  true  ;  I  had  forgotten.     And  the  phice  ?" 

"It  is  a  very  fine  old  place  ;  but,  oh,  so  desolate  and 
gloomy  1    Even  sunshine  does  not  seem  to  brighten  it  I" 

"  Sunshine  1  How  can  sunshine  brighten  a  place 
like  this — a  place  that  is  accursed  ?" 

"Senor  !"  Eve  cried,  startled  by  the  strong  word. 

"I  repeat  it — accursed  !  If  over  a  curse  rested  any- 
where on  earth,  it  does  on  Black  Monk's  I  Can  you  not 
see  it  in  its  master's  face  ?" 

"You  never  mean  to  say,"  said  Eve  still  more 
startled,  "that  it  is  haunted  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  by  an  incarnate  imp  of  the  Evil 
One  himself !  But  don't  look  so  white  about  it, 
if  you  can  help  it.  I  don't  know  as  this  spirit  of 
darkness  has  any  power  or  any  will  to  injure  you." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  remain  hero  to  tomi)t  it,"  said 
Eve  tartly  ;  "  I  am  going  away." 

"  Oh,  arc  you  ?    Where  to,  pray  ?" 

"  AnyAvhere — anywhere  that  I  can  earn  a  living.  I 
will  never  go  back  to  llazclwood  again  !" 

"  My  dear  girl,  don't  make  any  rash  promises.  Where 
do  you  wish  to  go  to — back  to  Canada  ?" 

"  Oh  no  1  not  there — not  even  to  New  York.  I  want 
to  go  to  London.    No  one  knows  me  there." 


in 


BLACK   MONK'S. 


847 


*'  And  what  will  you  do  when  you  got  to  London  ?'* 

** Anything!  Bo  a  governess,  a  school-teacher,  a 
seamstress,  a  housemaid,  or  anything  by  which  I  can 
earn  a  living." 

Her  eyes  were  flashing — her  cheeks  glowing — her 
voice  ringing — but  the  phlegmatic  gentleman  beside  her 
cauglit  none  of  her  excitement. 

"A  very  laudable  design,  indeed,  but  don't  be  in  a 
hurry.  Suppose  you  Avait  until  Lady  Landsdowne  comes 
home  ?  These  great  ladies  always  want  a  companion,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  and — " 

*'  I  wouldn't  stay  if  she  did  !  I  don't  like  this  place, 
and  I  don't  like  Lady  Landsdowne.  I  want  to  go  far 
from  here." 

**  Oh,  that's  the  way  of  it,  is  it  ?  Well,  she  may 
know  some  other  great  lady  in  Belgravia  who  wants  a, 
companion  or  a  governess,  and  may  get  you  the  situation. 
Take  my  advice,  and  wait  till  she  comes  ;  there  are 
worse  places  to  stop  in  than  Black  Monk's." 

"  How  did  I  ever  come  here  ?"  asked  Eve.  **  I 
remember  seeing  you  through  the  cotta.e  window  that 
dreadful  night,  and  that  is  all.     How  did  I  get  hero  ?" 

*'  I  heard  you  scream  and  fall,  and  so  did  another 
gentleman,  driving  home  in  his  carriage.     It  was  Lord 


343 


BLACK    MONK'S. 


Lundsdowne,  mid  ho  stopped  to  find  out  the  matter ; 
and,  when  we  recognized  the  young  hidy,  ho  insisted  on 
putting  her  into  the  carriage  and  driving  her  homo. 
You  nnder«t'ind  ?" 

"Yes;  and  wliat  cottage  was  that  you  were  in,  and 
who  were  tiio  two  women  ?" 

"What  a  pretty  inquisitor  it  is!  The  two  women 
were  grandmother  and  granddaughter,  and  I  went  in 
out  of  the  rain." 

"  Senor  Mendez,  I  want  to  see  that  girl  again.  I 
thought  it  was  my  own  face  looking  at  me  over  the  fire. 
We  must  look  exactly  alike." 

Senor  Mendez  looked  at  her  as  if  struck  by  a  now 
idea. 

"Why,  yes  ;  now  you  mention  it,  I  do  think  there  is 
a  slight  resemblance.  Rose — I  think  I  heard  the  old 
lady  call  her  Rose — Rose  has  black  eyes  and  curls, 
and  is  about  your  height ;  but  she  is  browner  in  the 
skin,  and  has  redder  cbeeks,  and  not  so  much  to  say  1 
And  now  I  must  leave  you  for  a  while ;  I  am  going  to 
Hazel  wood." 

"  To  Hazelwood  !" 

"  Don't  faint  !  I  won't  tell  them  you  are  here  !  I 
want  to  see  what  they  are  about  over  there,  and  won't 


TIIK     CLOUD. 


349 


say  a  word  about  you.  Good-bye  for  a  wliile.  Don't 
excite  yourself.  "Wait  till  my  lady  cornea  homo.  It  will 
bo  in  a  few  day.s — and  who  knows  what  the  upshot  will 
be  ?  Keep  up  a  good  heart.  Remember  what  I  said 
before.     Every  cloud  has  its  silver  lining." 

**  But  the  lining  is  on  the  wrong  side,"  said  poor 
Eve,  v/istfuUy  ;  "and  it  is  very  long  and  dreary  to 
wait." 

**  Perhaps  you  won't  have  so  long  to  wait — who 
knows  ?  Wait  anyway  until  her  ladyship  comes  back, 
and  we  will  see  what  will  follow.  Wait,  Eve,  wait  and 
see  !" 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


THE  CLOUD. 


I 


'^•ir^M'g 


HERE  come  to  all  of  us,  now  and  then,  days 
that  seem  endless.  We  get  up  and  sit  down, 
and  yawn,  and  saunter  wearily  about,  and 
the  long  dull  hours  drag  their  slow  length  along,  eacii 
one  a  lifetime  of  dreariness  in  itself.  It  was  one  of  those 
black-letter  davs  to  Eve,  that  first  one  in  Black  Monk's 
— she  wandered  through  the  grounds,  sauntered  in  and 


850 


THE    CLOUD. 


out  of  the  house  ;  tried  to  road,  and  found  it  impossible: 
and  all  the  time,  unconsciously  to  herself,  she  was  list- 
ening for  the  coming  of  some  one,  for  a  voice,  for  a  step, 
as  all  of  us  poor  creatures  have  listened  at  some  period 
of  our  lives.  In  vain,  too — that  is  the  worst  of  it.  Eve 
did  not  know  she  was  listening  for  Claude  D'Arville  ; 
but  she  was  starting  at  every  footstep,  her  foolish  heart 
throbbing  and  then  sinking  back  with  a  sickening  sense 
of  disappointment,  and  still  her  pride  would  not  let  her 
own  to  herself  why. 

At  seven,  she  and  Lord  Landsdownc  dined  in  solitary 
state.  His  day  seemed  to  have  been  little  more  agreeable 
than  her  own — he  looked  weary  and  dejected,  and  by 
tacit  consent  neither  talked  much. 

When  the  mute  performance  was  ended,  Eve  went 
out  again  to  the  grounds,  thinking  that  the  curse  of 
ennui  certainly  rested  heavily  on  Black  Monk's  if  none 
worse  did. 

The  sun  that  had  throbbed  all  day  like  a  heart  of  fire 
in  the  blue  vault  above,  was  dying  out  in  the  west.  Dying, 
too,  as  a  monarch  ought,  grandly  and  serenely  wrapped 
in  rainbow-glory.  The  girl  was  standing  watching  it, 
forgetting  half  her  own  troubles  in  its  splcndrr,  when 
a  stop  coming  near  made  her  turn  round  with  the  same 


TEE    CLOUD. 


351 


iS» 


flutter  at  her  lioart.  It  was  a  man,  a  yonng  man,  but 
not  ho  for  whom  she  looked — a  very  different  person 
indeed— none  otlier  than  Mr.  Paul  Schaffci*.  He  came 
n\)  to  her  rapidly  and  excitedly. 

"Miss  Hazelwood — Eve  !  have  I  found  you  at  last  ? 
What  is  this  they  have  been  doing  to  you  at  Hazel- 
wood  ?" 

Eve's  answer  was  a  flash  of  lier  black  eyes,  and  an 
attempt  to  pass,  but  he  stopped  her. 

"No,  Miss  Hazel  wood,  do  not  go.  You  must  not 
leave  me.  I  have  been  searcliing  for  you  all  day,  and 
only  discovered  half  an  hour  ago  that  you  were  here." 

Eve  was  too  proud  to  struggle — she  drew  back,  and 
stood  leaning  against  a  tree,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  tho 
flaring  sunset. 

"  Eve,"  he  repeated,  still  excitedly,  "  what  is  this 
they  have  been  doing  to  y^v.  at  Hazel  wood  that  you  have 
fled  hero  ?    That  much,  at  lea.  t,  1  know." 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  you  do  1"  ;^jVO  said,  frigidly. 

**  I  went  there  this  morning,  .and  heard  a  most  re- 
markable story.  In  faot,  I  was  met  by  Hazel  with  a 
tempest  of  tears  and  reproaches,  and  accused  of  having 
met  you  the  niglit  l)ol'ore  last  in  the  grounds.  Miss 
Forest  confirmed  the  tale  with  the  hauteur  of  a  dowager 


352 


THE    CLOUD. 


ducliess  offended,  and  informed  me  she  and  D'Arville 
had  been  looking  on.  Xow,  Miss  Ilazehvood,  what  does 
this  mean  ?" 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  pass,  Mr.  Schaffer  ?"  was 
Eve's  cold  reply.  "  Simple  as  yon  think  me,  I  am  not 
deceived  by  your  acting.  Whatever  plot  has  been  laid 
for  me,  you,  the  accomplice  of  Miss  Forest,  know  best." 

"  Eve,  you  wrong  mo  I  I  swear  you  do  1  I  love  you 
too  well,  ever  to  enter  into  any  plot  against  your  happi- 
ness !  It's  all  a  mystery  to  me — no,  not  all — for  I  know 
Miss  Eorest's  motive  for  hating  you  !' 

Eve  turned  her  large,  truthful  eyes  from  the  sunset 
to  the  man's  pale  and  excited  face. 

"  For  hating  me  ?  What  have  I  ever  done  that  she 
should  hate  me  ?" 

**  Tlie  greatest  crime  one  woman  can  commit  against 
another.     You  have  been  her  rival  1" 

"  Wliatr 

"  Ilor  rival,  Eve  !  Oh,  you  have  been  blind  while  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  saw.  Una  Forest  loves  Claude 
D'Arville." 

Eve's  heart  gave  one  wild  bound,  and  then  seemed 
to  stand  still.  A  thousand  trifles  rushed  on  her  mind 
to  confirm  the  story.     She  knew  this  nuin  to  be  a  liar  ; 


THE     CLOUD. 


853 


but  he  spoke  the  trutli  now.  All  the  blood  in  her  body 
seemed  to  rusli  into  her  face,  and  she  clasped  her  hands 
over  its  burning. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Eve,  that  is  Una  Forest's  secret.  He 
knows  nothing  of  it,  any  more  than  you  did  ;  but  that 
hidden  passion  is  the  spring  that  Inis  set  all  this  shame- 
ful machinery  at  work.  Tier  aim  was  to  turn  him 
against  you,  and  she  has  succeeded— how,  I  do  not 
know,  though  it  seems  she  has  involved  me  in  it." 

He  stopped,  but  Eve  did  not  speak  ;  her  face  was 
still  buried  in  her  hands,  and  he  could  not  see  its 
expression. 

"  It  proves  that  she  hates  you — it  proves  something 
else,  how  weak  and  contemptible  a  creature  this  D'Ar- 
ville  is  !    If  he  had  any  mind  of  his  own,  would  he   not 
see  through  a  woman's  poor  machinations?    If  he  had 
any  real  love  you,  would  he,  at  the  first  word,  spurn  you 
unseen  and  unheard,  and  shamefully  desert  you  Avith- 
out  one  word  ?    0  Eve  !  listen  to  me — I  love  you,  if  he 
does  not !     I  believe  in  you,   if  he  has  no   faith  !     I 
respect  you,  if  he  has  scorned  I    I  will  be  true,  if  he  has 
deserted  you  !    Let   the  miserable  ex-schoolmaster  go, 
Eve,  and  be  my  wife — my  loved  and  honored  wife  !    I 
can  give  you  a  happy  home,  wealth,  friends,  position, 


854 


THE     CLOUD. 


everything  ;  lie  can  give  you  notliing  but  his  fickle  heart, 
his  empty  brain  and  emptier  pocket !  Come  back  to 
Canada,  Eve,  where  the  friends  arc  who  know  and 
love  you,  and  forget  one  wlio  can  so  easily  forget 
you! 

He  spoke  vehemently,  passionately,  trying  to  take 
her  hand  ;  but  Eve  drew  back,  and  the  face  she  lifted 
seemed  to  have  turned  to  marble. 

"  Will  you  let  me  pass,  Monsieur  Schaffer  ?"  she 
coldly  said. 

"Eve  !  Eve  !  have  you  no  heart  ?  Will  you  not 
hear  me  ?" 

"  I  have  heard  you.  If  you  are  a  gentleman,  mon- 
sieur, 3'ou  will  let  me  pass." 

*'  Eve,  do  you  refuse  ?  0  Eve,  you  know  I  love 
you  !"  he  cried  out,  distractedly. 

"  I  have  refused  you  before — I  refuse  you  again  I 
You  are  plausible  enough,  but  I  know  you  of  old,  Mon- 
sieur Schaffer  ;  and  if  you  were  to  kneel  down  and  swear 
to  me  you  are  not  concerned  in  this  plot  against  me,  I 
Avould  not  believe  you  !  I  scorn  your  offer  as  I  do  your- 
self, and  I  would  sooner  be  turned  out,  to  stand  and  die 
in  the  streets,  than  to  become  your  wife.  Now  will  you 
let  me  pass  ?" 


THE    CLOUD. 


d88 


"And  you  defy  me  like  this  ?" 

"I  do  defy  yon,  nionsicnr  !  You  thought,  I  know, 
when  you  had  brought  mo  to  this,  made  me  homeless 
and  friendless,  that  I  would  be  only  too  glad  to  come  to 
any  terms.  But  I  am  not  friendless,  monsieur,"  she 
said,  listing  her  head  to  the  radiant  sky,  her  face  and 
voice  solemn  alike,  "  the  Father  of  the  orplian  reigns 
there,  and  my  trust  is  in  Him.  Mr.  Schaffer,  let  me 
go!" 

What  was  there  in  that  white  face,  in  those  solemn, 
earnest,  dark  eyes,  that  awed  the  man.  The  same  soul — 
that  one  spark  of  divinity  within  us  that  awes  the  tame- 
less beast  of  the  forest — looked  forth,  hcrhaps,  and  cowed 
him.  lie  drew  back,  his  own  face  livid  with  suppressed 
fury. 

"Go,"  he  said,  "but  I  will  conquer  you  yet.  No 
one  ever  defied  Paul  Schaffer  with  impunity;  and 
before  another  sun  sets,  you  will  be  turned  out  of  Black 
Monk's  as  you  have  been  out  of  Hazclwood  !  Then  we 
will  see  what  kind  of  a  tramp  La  Princesse  will  make. 
A  few  days'  starvation  will  prove  a  wonderful  cure  for 
these  fine  airs  and  graces,  my  pretty  Eve  !" 

But  Eve  was  gone,  and  Paul  Shaffer  walked  away, 
beaten  and  ballled.     He  had  counted  so  surely  on  hia 


856 


THE    SILVER    LINING. 


schemes  succeeding,  and  here  he  was  foiled  at  the  first 
turn.  But  lie  had  another  card  to  phiy  yet — the  game 
was  not  quite  ended. 

That  night  a  letter  addressed  to  Lady  Landsdowne 
was  posted  in  the  little  post-office  of  Monkswood.  It 
was  short,  pithy,  and  anonymous  : 

"My  Lady  Landsdowne  need  be  in  no  hurry  home. 
His  lordship  is  not  at  all  lonely  in  her  absence,  as  he  has 
a  younger  and  even  prettier  lady  than  his  charming 
wife  for  company  in  the  dull  old  mansion.  The  young 
person  is  Miss  Eve  Hazel  wood,  of  Hazel  wood,  who,  for 
some  mysterious  reason,  has  left  the  latter  for  the 
former  residence.  How  long  she  is  going  to  remain  is 
also  unknown — probably  your  ladyship  may  find  out  on 
your  return — if  both  birds,  in  the  meantime,  do  not  take 
unto  themselves  wings,  and  fly  away. 

"A  Friend." 


CHAPTER  XXHL 


THE   SILVER  LINING. 


OW  Eve  passed   that  night  she  best  knew. 
Lord  Landsdowne  did  not,  though  he  partly 
guessed,  seeing  the  white  face  and  sunken 
eyes  across  the  breakfast-table  next  morning.     Worst  of 


THE    SILVER    LINING. 


857 


all,  Scnor  Meudoz  and  licr  only  remaining  friend  now 
came  not,  though  the  morning  was  wearing  away  ;  and 
she  stood  straining  her  eyes,  half  wild  with  impatience, 
watching  for  his  arrival.  Noon  came,  and  brought  him 
not ;  tho  sultry  afternoon  stole  on,  and  still  he  was 
absent.  Oli  !  was  he,  too,  turning  against  her  !  Was 
he,  too,  forgetting  and  deserting  her,  like  the  rest  of 
the  world  ?  No,  surely  this  was  he  at  last.  A  fly  had 
entered  the  gate,  and  was  driving  rapidly  up  the  avenue. 
Eve  started  forward  to  meet  it.  Alas  for  her  hopes  !  it 
was  a  fly  from  tho  railway-station,  and  held  only  a  lot  of 
trunks  and  a  lady — the  sad,  haughty,  handsome  face  of 
a  lady  she  had  seen  before,  and  instinctively  distrusted. 
It  was  Lady  Landsdowne  returned.  Eve  drew  back  with 
a  low  bow,  bui,  recoiled  ac  the  fierce  bright  glance  she 
met  from  the  lady's  blue  eyes — a  glance  that,  had  her 
looks  been  lightning,  would  have  blasted  her  where  she 
stood.  Tho  next  moment,  she  was  gone,  gathering  up 
her  silken  skirt  with  her  gloved  fingers,  as  if  she  feared 
it  might  be  contaminated  by  the  slightest  contact  with 
the  other. 

"It  never  rains  but  it  pours."  0  truest  of  all  true 
proverbs !  Eve  stood  and  looked  after  her  Avith  a  strained 
and  bewildered  air.     What  had  she  done  now  to  incur 


B69 


THE    SILVER    LINING. 


that  fiery  gl.ance  ?  Long  ago  she  had  heard  of  tho 
intense  and  nnroasonablo  jealousy  of  Lady  Landsdowne, 
but  it  never  occurred  to  her  now.  "  To  the  pure  all 
things  are  pure."  Eve  thought  of  everything,  but  not  of 
that;  until  at  last,  roused,  indignant,  and  outraged,  she 
turned  into  the  house  with  a  brightened  color  and 
flaming  eye. 

**I  will  leave  this  instant — I  will  stay  no  longer 
where  I  am  not  wanted  !  Let  Senor  Mendez  go.  He 
has  forsaken  me,  like  all  the  rest ;  but  I  Avill  lie  down 
on  tho  roadside  and  die,  before  I  stay,  to  be  treated  like 
this !" 

She  ran  up-stairs,  and  was  crossing  the  hall  on  her 
way  to  the  room  she  occupied,  when,  through  the  half- 
open  door  of  the  library,  she  heard  a  loud  and  passionate 
voice  pronouncing  her  name.  Instinctively  slie  stopped 
— I  think  the  best  of  us  would,  in  her  place — and 
listened.  Tlio  library  was  the  room  in  which  the  lord  of 
Black  Monk's  spent  nearly  all  his  time,  but  ho  was  not 
the  speaker.  This  raised  angry  voice  was  a  woman's — 
was  my  lady's. 

"I  tell  you  I  will  speak  !"  she  was  passionately  cry- 
ing out,  "and  I  will  not  lower  my  voice.  Let  the  shame- 
less creature  hear,  if  she  likes ;  such  vile  wretches  care 


THE    SILVER    LINING. 


359 


litle  what  is  said  to  them.  But  you,  my  lord,  the  saint, 
the  paragon — I  liavo  found  you  out  at  last,  have  I  ?  This 
is  the  way  you  pass  the  time  when  I  am  absent !  I  wish 
Miss  Eve  Hazel  wood  joy  of  her  conquest !" 

"  Lady  Landsdowne,"  the  calm,  low  voice  of  her 
husband  said,  "  have  you  gone  mad  ?  For  Heaven's 
sake  lower  your  voice,  or  you  will  have  every  servant  in 
the  house  at  the  door  in  five  minutes  !" 

"  Let  them  come  !"  cried  the  excited  lady,  **  I  want 
nothing  better  than  to  expose  the  pair  of  you  !  You're 
the  model  husband,  forsooth  ! — so  kind,  so  indulgent, 
so  faithful — the  admiration  of  all  the  weak-minded  fe- 
male fools  I  know  I  But  I  have  found  you  out  in  time, 
and  I  shall  turn  that  miserable  girl  from  the  door  in  five 
minutes,  and  expose  her  to  the  whole  county." 

Lord  Landsdowne  rose  from  his  seat  and  crossed  the 
room  to  close  the  door,  when  the  sight  of  Eve  standing 
there,  like  a  stone,  made  him  start  back  as  if  he  had  seen  a 
ghost.  Ho  turned  scarlet  for  the  woman  who  could  not 
blush  for  herself. 

"  Miss  Hazeiwood,  you  here  !  Good  heavens  !  you 
must  have  heard  all !" 

"I  have,  my  lord,"  Eve  said,  her  voice  sounding, 
even  to  herself,  strange  and  far  off,  "  and  I  am  going. 


m 


THE    SILVER    LINING. 


I  thank  you  most  sincerely  for  your  kindness,  but  I 
wish  I  hud  been  dead  before  I  ever  came  here  !" 

Lady  Landsdowne  came  to  the  door,  her  shawl  hang- 
ing off  her  shoulders,  her  Ijo'Miet  still  on,  her  face  dis- 
torted by  the  storm  of  jealou.s  fury  into  which  she  had 
lashed  herself. 

"Yes,  go,  you  wretched  girl,  before  I  order  my 
servants  to  turn  you  out,  but  do  not  think  your  infamy 
is  to  be  concealed.     No,  I  will  expose — " 

''Peace,  woman  !"  her  husband  thundered.  "Hold 
your  poisonous  tongue,  or  I  will  forget  I  am  a  man,  and — '* 

"  Strike  me  ?"  screamed  Lady  Landsdowne,  who 
seemed  to  be  fairly  beside  herself,  "  I  knew  it  would 
come  to  that.  But  I  will  expose  you  both,  the  whole 
county  shall  know  of  it ;  shall  know  I  am  a  wronged, 
slandered,  insulted  wife  !" 

She  finished  with  an  hysterical  peal  of  laughter  that 
ended  in  a  wild  and  noisy  storm  of  tears.  Eve  fled  hor- 
rified, and  Lord  Landsdowne,  seizing  the  bell,  rang  a 
peal  that  brought  half  a  dozen  curious  servants  to  the 
spot  at  once. 

"  Her  ladyship  is  not  well !  Attend  to  her,"  was 
his  order,  and  then  he  too  was  gone.  Not  in  search 
of  Eve,  though — he  had  not  moral  courage  for  that, 


THE    SILVER    LINING. 


sei 


but  to  lock  himself  in  his  own  room  for  the  rest  of  the 
diiy,  out  of  the  reach  of  his  wife's  serpent-tongue. 

And  Eve,  barcheadecl  and  unsliawlcd,  as  she  had 
fled  from  llazclwood,  was  flying  now  from  Black  Monk's. 
She  did  not  fly  far,  however  ;  the  gate  opened  before  sho 
reached  it,  and  a  tall  gentleman  entered,  ar.d  with  a  cry 
of  joy  she  looked  up  into  the  kind  eyes  and  friendly 
face  of  Senor  Mendcz. 

"  What's  your  hurry,  Eve  ?"  he  said,  stopping  her ; 
"running  away  again,  eh  ?" 

"Oh,  let  me  go!  let  me  go!"  she  cried,  passion- 
ately.    "  I  shall  die  if  I  stop  here  !" 

"Die,  will  you  !  you  look  like  it,  I  must  say  !  What 
has  happened  ?" 

"  Oh,  do  not  ask  mc — it  is  too  dreadful  to  tell  I 
Only  take  me  away  from  here  !" 

"Directly  !    Has  Lady  Landsdownc  returned  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes  1  Oh,  she  is  ten  times  worse  than 
Miss  Eorest !" 

"Yes,  I  know  she  is!  But  what  has  she  done  to 
you  ?  Oh,  I  sec  !"  ho  exclaimed,  his  eyes  firing  and  his 
face  flushing.     "Eve,  has  she  turned  you  out  ?" 

A  passionate  gesture  was  her  only  answer — her  voice 

was  too  choked  to  speak. 
10 


863 


THE    SILVER    LTNINQ. 


"  My  poor  child  !  My  poor  persecuted  little  Eve!" 
he  said,  compassionately,  "and  what  are  you  going  to 
do  now  ?" 

She  broke  out  into  a  wild  cry — the  wail  of  a  half- 
broken  heart. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  !  I  only  want  to  lie  down  and 
die !" 

A  change  came  over  Sonor  Mendez.  He  took  both 
her  hands  in  his,  and  looked  brightly  down  in  her  face. 

"  Not  yet,  Eve  !  not  yet  1  Not  till  you  see  the 
silver  lining  of  all  these  clouds,  as  I  promised  you. 
You  have  been  thinking  hard  of  me,  I  know,  for  leaving 
you  so  long  ;  but  I  could  not  help  it.  I  have  been  up  to 
London  since,  in  search  of  another  runaway — a  friend  of 
yours.  Eve.  It  will  all  come  right  yet,  believe  me. 
Can  you  bear  a  shock.  Eve  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  in  silent  questioning,  and  met 
his  reassuring  smile. 

"Eve,  did  yon  ever  hear  of  Conway  Hazelwood  ?" 

"I  have  heard  he  was  my  father,"  she  answered,  her 
heai't  beginning  to  throb  fast,  "and  that  he  was 
dead." 

"Half  true  and  half  false  !  He  is  your  father,  and 
he  is  not  dead  !    Eve,  your  father  lives  1" 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURE. 


363 


**0h,  where?"  she  wildly  cried,  "where  in  all  the 
world  have  I  a  father  ?" 

He  took  off  his  sombrero  and  hold  open  his  arms. 

"  Here,  Eve  ;  here,  beside  you  !  When  all  the  world 
forsakes  yon,  it  is  time  your  father  should  come  to  the 
rescue.  Yes,  Eve  ;  no  longer  the  Creole  planter,  no 
longer  Senor  Mendez,  but  Conway  Hazclwood  and  your 
father!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

MEASURE    FOR   MEASURE. 

|FIE  door  of  carved  oak,  stiulded  with  brass 
nails,  leading  into  my  lady's  boudoir  stood 
ajar,  and  pee])ing  tlirougli  you  might  have 
fancied  you  saw  a  glimpse  of  fairy  land,  so  brilliant  was 
the  little  room.  Curtains  of  rose  satin  and  snowy  lace 
tempered  the  garish  morning  sunshine,  and  fluttered 
softly  in  the  light  summer-breeze.  Your  foot  sank  deep 
in  tho  velvet-pile  carpet.  Tlio  pictnros  on  the  walls 
were  each  worth  a  fortune  ;  and  there  wci-o  rare  Indian 
cabinets,  and  inlaid  tables,  and  Psyche  mirrors,  and  the 
thousand  and  one  costly  trifles  ladies  with  more  money 


364 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURE. 


tlian  they  know  what  to  do  with  Ioyc  to  gather  round 
them.  It  was,  altogether^  a  perfect  gem  of  a  room,  tliis 
boudoir  of  my  Lady  Landsdownc. 

On  a  lounge  under  tiio  window,  in  a  charming  morn- 
ing toilette,  half  buried  mi  rosy  cushions,  lay  my  lady 
herself.  A  pretty  woman,  as  you  know  already,  blue- 
eyed,  golden-haired,  and  fair-skinned,  with  regular 
features,  and  an  air  that  miglit  have  done  credit  to  a 
princess  royal.  Fair-haired,  blne-cyed,  and  delicate- 
featured,  a  gentle  delineation  surely  ;  but  Lady  Lands- 
downc would  not  have  impressed  you  with  the  idea  of 
gentleness.  The  fair  face  looked  liard  and  haughty  at 
the  best  ;  at  the  worst,  as  it  was  this  morning,  it  looked 
sour,  sullen,  and  almo.-:t  fierce.  A.  lilllo  stand  with  the 
remains  of  an  epicurean  breakfast  stood  at  her  elbow  ; 
the  last  new  novel  in  her  hand,  but  she  was  not  reading, 
she  was  listening — not  in  impatience,  not  in  eagerness, 
but  with  a  look  of  dogged  determination  about  the  thin, 
bitter  lips,  and  in  the  wicked  blue  eyes.  What  8he 
listened  for  came  at  last.  There  was  a  tap  at  the  door, 
and  her  French  maid  entered,  dip])ing  and  smiling. 

"  A  gentleman  was  below,  and  wished  to  see  mi  ladi. 
Ho  did  not  send  his  name,  but  said  ho  came  on  impor- 
tant business.     0,  mon  Dieu !  here  he  was  1" 


■ 


MEASURE     -'OR    MEASURE. 


30.1 


Sure  enougli,  tlioro  ho  was,  at  mademoiselle's  elbow 
— a  tall  gentleman,  with  a  handsome  bronzed  face,  jet- 
black  beard  and  mustache,  dark  bright  eyes,  and  the  air 
generally  of  an  Italian  brigand. 

"  Your  mistress  will  see  me,"  said  this  dark  appa- 
rition, "have  the  goodness  to  go,  mademoiselle  !" 

Mademoiselle  looked  at  her  mistress,  aghast.  My 
lady  had  risen  to  a  sitting  position,  and  waived  her  off 
with  her  jeweled  hand.  She  seemed  very  little  surprised 
or  startled  by  this  strange  visitor  ;  she  had  turned  pale, 
it  is  true,  and  mademoiselle  noticed  it  was  like  the  gray 
pallor  of  death;  but  that  was  all.  Her  glittering  eyes 
were  fixed  on  his  face  as  ho  came  in  and  closeil  the  door, 
and  she  was  the  first  to  si)cak,  clearly  and  steadily, 

"  So  you  have  come,"  she  said  ;  "  sooner  or  latter  I 
knew  you  would  !" 

"  I  have  come,"  said  the  deep  voice  of  Senor  Mcndez, 
standing  before  her,  dark  and  stern  as  Rhadaman thus, 
"I  have  come  to  seal  your  fate  !  ]\rurderess,  matricide, 
bigamist,  your  career  is  run,  I  come  as  an  avenger,  to 
lead  you  to  your  doom  !" 

A  strange  mode  of  saluting  a  groat  lady  in  her  own 
house  !  But  Lady  liandsdowno  only  looked  up  in  hia 
fftco  with  a  smile,  that  showed  all  her  white  teeth. 


300 


MEASURE     FOR     MEASURE. 


"Willyoii  not  take  a  seat,  ^Mr.  llazelwood,"  slio 
said  in  her  sweetest  tone,  "or,  perha{)s,  you  prefer  to 
rant  standing.  Tiiat  tragic  speech  would  hring  down 
the  house  if  you  were  in  Drury  Lane,  or  in  the  Bowery, 
in  our  own  deliglitful  hind  over  the  sea  !  Did  you  ex- 
pect me  to  faint  atsiglit  of  you  tliis  morning,  Conway  ?" 

He  k>oked  at  her  in  amazement.  Bold  and  daring  as 
he  knew  her  to  he,  he  was  hardly  prepared  for  such 
hardihood,  for  such  brazen  effrontery  as  tliis.  Siie  broke 
into  a  derisive  little  laugh,  as  she  watched  him. 

"Even  so,  Mr.  Ilazolwood  !  Strange  to  say,  I  fear 
you  no  more  to-day  than  I  did  sixteen  years  ago,  when  I 
poisoned  your  pretty  bride,  got  your  brotluT  hanged, 
broke  your  father's  heart,  and  sent  you  a  waiulerer  over 
the  Avorld.  Oh,  no  !  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  Conway, 
I  never  was  afraid  of  anything  of  any  one  iu  my  life,  and 
I  am  not  lil<ely  to  begin  now." 

"You  are  llio  devil  himself,  I  believe,"  said  Mr. 
Hazelwood,  "but  if  you  were  ten  times  the  incarnate 
demon  you  are,  your  race  is  run,  your  power  to  do  evil 
is  ended.  For  stone  Avails,  a  treadmill,  or  a  strait-jacket, 
have  rendered  harmless  worse  fiends  than  you." 

Again  she  laughed,  her  low  mocking,  derisive  laugh. 
The  woman  seemed  to  be  scarcely  human  iu  her  daring 


■ 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURE. 


367 


fearlessness,  and  it  was  no  mock  courage,  yon  could  see; 
some  secret  sense  of  power  suspended  and  lifted  her 
above  all  fear. 

"  'Justice,  thougli  the  heavens  fall  !'  Is  that  your 
relentless  motto,  :\rr.  Ilazelwood  ?  Well,  I  have  reason 
to  be  thankful  to  you  for  the  sixteen  years'  grace  you 
have  given  me  !  You  see  I  have  not  wasted  my  time— 
I  have  gained  wealth,  rank,  title,  position.  I  have  drank 
the  wine  of  life  hot  and  sweet,  and  now  that  I  have  '>'ot 
to  the  lees,  I  find  them  rather  bitter  and  palling  to  the 
taste.  I  am  getting  blase,  Mr.  Hazelwood,  and  even  the 
treadmill  may  be  pleasant  by  way  of  change  !  How  has 
the  world  gone  with  you  these  sixteen  long  years,  my 
dear  husband  ?" 

**  Woman  I  woman  !  is  no  spark  of  human  nature 
left  in  your  black  and  murderous  heart,  that  you  can 
talk  like  this  ?  It  matters  not  to  you  where  I  have  been 
— I  have  known  where  you  were  this  many  a  day,  and  I 
Bpared  you.  You  had  entrapped  a  good  aiul  honorable 
man  into  marriage  by  your  devilish  wiles  ;  and  for  his 
sake,  though  ho  was  a  stranger  to  mo,  I  spared  you. 
You  were  a  double,  a  treble  murderess.  You  had 
ruino'l  my  life,  made  me  a  wanderer  and  an  outcast,  but 
still  I  spared  you.     Aud,  fiend  that  you  are,  I  would 


868 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURE. 


have  spared  you  to  tlio  last — I  would  have  left  you  to 
the  Great  Avciij^er  of  all  wrongs,  but  for  this  last 
crudest  deed  of  sill — the  shameful  and  inhuman  deed 
committed  last  night  I" 

"Committed  last  night  ?  oh,  you  mean  turning 
that  girl  out  of  doors  I  Wliy,  Mr.  llazelwood,  reflect — 
I  come  home  and  find  a  young  and  pretty  woman  domi- 
ciled with  my  husband,  a  young  and  handsome  man, 
and—" 

"Silence!"  he  thui.dercd,  raising  his  voice  for  tlie 
first  lime,  and  with  a  ilash  from  his  dark  eyes,  that 
made  even  the  female  luMid  before  him  cower.  "  Silence, 
or  I  will  foi-get  I  am  a  man,  and  strangle  you  where  you 
sit !  Wretch  ,  Jezebel,  fiendess  !  You  know  as  well  as  I 
do,  that  girl  is  your  own  da\ighter  !" 

Lady  Landsdowno  stretched  out  lier  hand  for  a 
jeweled  fan  on  the  table,  and  began  fanning  herself. 

"Mr.  llazelwood,  oblige  mo  by  not  shouting  out  in 
that  manner!  It's  extremely  ill-bred,  and  you'll  have 
every  servant  in  the  house  hereto  see  what  is  the  matter. 
Suppose  she  is  my  daughter — what  then  ?  It  only  makes 
the  matter  Avorse.  I  don't  vv;jit  her  hero — you  stole  her 
from  me  when  a  child — you  thought  I  wasn't  the  proper 
sort  of  person  to  bring  up  your  daughter,  and  you  have 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURP:. 


860 


kept  her  ever  siuco.  I  didn't  care  much  for  her  then — 
I  c;irc  a  great  deal  less  now  !  I  knew  perfectly  well, 
from  the  fii'st  moment  I  saw  her,  wlio  she  was— and  a  rare 
start  slic  gave  me,  I  assure  3-ou,  for  my  nerves  are  not 
at  all  strong  at  times  ;  but,  as  I  said,  I  didn't  want  her 
here — so  I  turned  her  out  !  If  it  were  to  do  over  again, 
I  would  do  it  in  half  a  hour — just  the  same  !" 

"1  don't  doubt  it!  You  would  murder  your  own 
mother  if  you  took  it  into  your  head  !" 

"Yes,  and  if  she  ever  comes  troubling  me  here, 
I  shall  feel  tempted  to  do  it !  Oil,  you  need  not  stare  ! 
I  know  she  is  in  Monkswood,  and  has  the  other  one  with 
her — I  have  seen  them  botli,  though  she  never  saw  me. 
I  know  more  than  you  tliink,  Mr.  llazelwood.  I  know 
how  she  stole  Rosamond,  and  would  have  stolen  Evan- 
geline to  spite  you,  if  she  could  !  Poor  little  wretch  ! 
a  sweet  life  tlio  one  she  did  get  must  have  led  with  her 
— half  starved  all  her  days,  I  dare  say  !" 

Conway  llazelwood  stood  looking  at  her,  his  dark 
face  wliite  as  death. 

"And  tliis  creature  who  sits  there  and  says  such 

things  is  liuman  and  a  woman!     Oh,  in  all  this  wide 

world  docs  such  a  monster  exist  ?" 

She  smiled  up  in  his  face  and  fluttered  her  fan. 
16* 


870 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURE. 


"  You  tliink  me  unique,  then.  I  take  it  as  a  com- 
pliment !  But  if  I  iim  a  monster  and  a  murderess,  and 
all  the  otlier  sweet  things  you  cull  me,  whose  conduct 
made  me  so,  pray  ?  I  was  the  daughter  of  a  New  Eng- 
land innkeeper,  a  pretty,  innocent  barmaid,  who  used  to 
fill  the  glasses  of  Captain  Forrest  and  his  fast  young 
friends  from  New  York,  make  their  punch,  and  sing  for 
them  Avith  such  charming  simplicity  and  such  innocent 
blue  eyes  and  long  golden  curls,  until  the  blue  eyes  and 
golden  curls  turned  Captain  Forrest's  head,  and  he  made 
the  pretty  little  bar-tender  his  pretty  little  wife  1" 

"  Yes,  when  I  was  half  mad  with  your  father's 
cursed  liquor,  uud  kn  w  uotiung  of  what  I  was  doing. 
That  was  the  one  mad  act  that  has  ruined  my  whole 
life  !" 

"Very  soon,"  Lady  Land sdoAvne  })lacidly  went  on, 
"  Captain  Forrest — an  assumed  name,  but  no  matter — 
got  tired  of  his  artless  little  bride  and  deserted  her. 
Her  father  died,  and  by  and  by  came  two  little  baby 
girls,  with  big  black  eyes  and  bhick  curly  hair — the  very 
image  of  their  papa.  Papa  found  it  out,  relented,  and 
came  to  see  tliem,  gave  them  money,  and  went  away 
again.  The  ill-used  wife  waited,  and  waited,  and  at 
last,   growing    tired   of  that,   began  to   act.      She  got 


MEASURE    FOIi    MEASURE. 


871 


money  from  liim  regularly.  It  enabled  her  to  act  all  the 
better.  She  found  out  the  reason  of  his  absence — he 
was  about  to  break  the  laws  of  his  country  and  marry 
another  wife,  a  richer  and  more  presentable  bride.  She 
found  out  she  was  not  Mrs.  Forrest  but  Mrs.  Hazelwood  ; 
but  her  husband  was  rich,  and  treacherous,  and  despised 
her.  To  add  to  it  all,  he  stole  her  children  from  her 
one  winter-night,  out  of  a  poor  and  lonely  house,  in  a 
lonely  marsh,  where  she  and  her  mother  were  stopping 
for  a  few  days,  on  their  way  to  New  York.  That  was 
the  last  drop  in  the  cup  ;  not  that  she  cared  much  for 
the  twins — they  were  only  a  burden  and  a  torment  to 
her  ;  but  the  act  galled  her  woman's  nature. 

"She  resolved  to  bo  revenged,  and  in  her  own  way. 
All  that  was  savage  Avithin  her — and  Old  Nick  had 
always  Iain  latent  behind  those  innocent  blue  eyes  and 
golden  ringlets — rose  fierce  to  the  surface.  She  left  her 
mother,  secretly  came  to  the  city,  obtained  a  situation 
as  houscnuiid  in  the  house  of  her  husband's  bride-elect, 
and  laid  her  plans.  It  was  she  wrote  the  notes  to  the 
bride  and  her  lover ;  it  was  she  who  followed  him  down 
Broadway  that  memorable  night  dressed  as  a  man.  Had 
her  trap  laid  for  him  succeeded,  ho  might  have  been 
arrested  for  the  murder  ;  but  he  baffled  her  there.     It 


372 


MEASURE    FOR    MEASURH. 


was  her  luuid  administered  tlic  poison,  liidden  in  a  cnp 
of  coffee,  and  for  wliicli  liis  brother  died  !  Yes,  sho 
became  a  murderess  !  but  whose  was  the  first  fault  ?" 

"Yours,  woman  ;  for  you  entrapped  mo  into  a  mar- 
riage I  never  wouhl  liavc  thought  of  in  my  sober  senses  1 
Who  can  bUimo  mo  for  tiring  of  you  ?  Why  did  you 
not  come  forward  and  prochiim  the  marriage,  as  you 
might  have  done?  Mine  was  alone  the  fault!  mino 
alone  should  have  been  the  atonement.  IJut  no,  yoii 
were  merciless,  and  now  I  shall  bo  merciless  to  you  I 
With  the  measure  you  have  meted  to  others  shall  it  this 
day  be  measured  to  you  !  'The  hour  of  retribution  has 
come !'" 

"  Has  it  ?  What  arc  you  going  to  do,  Mr  Hazel- 
wood  ?" 

"  I  am  going  to  summon  Lord  Landsdowne  hero  and 
tell  him  your  whole  diabolical  history.  You  entrapped 
him  as  you  entrapped  me.  Yon  have  been  his  bane  and 
the  curse  of  his  home,  as  yon  have  been  of  mine  !  Then 
you  shall  enter  a  carriage  that  awaits  you  at  the  door, 
and  I  shall  tako  you  to  the  house  where  you  are  to  drag 
out  the  rest  of  your  Avretelied  life  !" 

"Might  I  ask  where  this  house  is  ?" 

"It  is  an  English  madhouse  !     There  in  your  stone 


MHIASUnF;    FOR    MEASURE. 


373 


prison,  .sepamtc'd  even  from  the  unfortiinutos  wlio  will  bo 
your  fello\v-cai)LivcH,  yon  iiniy  Iwirn  in  solitude  to  priiy 
for  pardon,  and,  perhaps,  luorcifully  obtain  forgiveness 
from  Him  who  is  more  merciful  th;;u  man  ;  from  llim 
who  has  said:  'Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they 
shall  become  white  as  wool.'" 

"Tliank  you  for  your  sermon!  But  suppose  I  do 
not  believe  in  a  future  stale  ;  suppose  I  do  not  choose  to 
pray— what  am  I  to  do  then  ?" 

"  What  you  please  !  Your  power  to  do  harm  will  at 
least  bo  ended.  You  should  be  thankful  that  your 
punishment  is  so  sliglit  !" 

"  Oh,  I  am— excessively  !     When  am  I  to  go  ?" 

"Immediately!  I  am  going  to  send  for  Lord 
Landsdowne  now.  You  had  better  put  on  your  bonnet 
and  shawl,  and  be  ready  to  accompany  me!  half  an 
hour." 

He  rang  the  bell  as  he  spoke,  and  my  lady  arose, 
with  her  cold  slight  laugh  : 

'^  Short  notice!  But  it  is  all  poetical  justice,  I 
su{)pose.  My  bonnet  and  shawl  are  in  my  bc.l-chamber. 
I  shall  bog  you  to  excuse  me  while  I  puL  them  on." 

''Any  attempt  at  escape  will  bo  useless,"  he  said, 
sternly.     ''  You  shall  not  go  out  of  my  sight !" 


874 


MKASUIiH    FOR    MEASURE. 


*'  I  shall  not  ask  to.  You  may  go  iu  and  examine 
the  room.  Tiiero  is  no  door — no  socrot  and  mysterious 
trapdoor,  and  the  window  is  twenty  feet  from  the 
ground.     Go  in  and  look  yourself,  if  you  do  not  believe 

QIC." 

Ho  did  go  in  with  her,  and  she  watched  him  with 
her  cold,  evil  eye  as  he  examined  the  apartment.  What 
she  had  said  was  true,  and  ho  left  her  carefully  adjustmg 
her  shawl  round  her  graceful  shoulders,  and  went  out 
again  to  the  boudoir  to  answer  a  rap  at  the  door.  It 
was  a  servant  come  to  reply  to  the  call. 

"Is  his  lordship  in  ?"     IMr.  Ilazelwood  asked. 

"Yes  sir,  he  is  in  the  library." 

"  Ask  him  to  have  the  kindness  to  come  hero  at  once, 
will  you  ?'' 

The  man  bowed  and  disappeared.  Mr.  Hazelwood 
glanced  into  the  inner  room.  My  lady  was  still  busy 
before  the  glass.  Five  minutes  passed,  then  Lord 
Landsdowne  opened  the  door,  staring  with  all  his  eyes  at 
the  stranger. 

"Scnor  Mendez — ^you  here  !  "Where  is  her  ladyship, 
and  what — " 

"  My  lord,  come  in,"  was  the  grave  answer. 

A  quaking  cry  and  a  heavy  fall  in  the  next  room. 


c 


t 


Tini:  DEATimooM  story. 


375 


Both  rushed  in.     Before  lier  drcssing-tublc,  my  lady  hiy 
flat  on  her  face,  writhing  in  dreadful  convulsions.  Conway 
Hazelwood  lifted  her  up,  and  her  face  was  an  api.alliug 
Kight— blackened,   convulsed,  distorted,  tlic  lips  foam- 
ing, the  eyeballs   .starting.     lu  one  clenched    hand  sho 
held  convulsively  grasjjcd   a   vial,   whose  label  told  tho 
whole  story.     The  ghastly  struggle  lasted  but  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  blackened  and  horrible  face  turned  livid,  the 
awful  dee})  rattle  sounded  through  the  room  ;  tho  hand 
fell  back  ;  the  eyeballs  turned  in  their  inflamed  sockets  ; 
the  jaw  dropped,  and  her  soul  was  gone  !  Hose  Ilazehvood 
— Lady  Landsdownc — had  gone  to  render  an  account  of 
her  dark  and   guilty   life   before   tho    highest    of    all 
tribunals,  and  the  tAvo  living  husbands  stood  looking  on 
the  dead  wife  ! 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THE   STORY  TOLD   IN   THE  DEATHROOM. 


j^TjILEXCE  and  gloom  have,  for  many  a  day, 
been  the  pervading  characteristics  of  Black 
Monk's  Priory  ;  but  a  dee])er  silence,  a  more 
dismal  gloom  hung  over  it  this  serene  summer-day  than 
the  oldest  servitor  of  the  house  ever  remembered  before. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


// 


{./ 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


^  121    12.5 

im 
S6 


S  144    * 


m  122 

110 

m 

U    llill.6 


VI 


n 


7: 


/^ 


PhotDgraphic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  '.i/t :f  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MtiSO 

(716)872-4503 


^v- 


fe'-<^ 


d 


o 


m 


\ 


370 


TOE    STORY    TOLD 


With  bated  breath  and  noiseless  step  they  stole  from 
room  to  room,  speaking  in  hushed  whispers  and  with 
awe-slruck  faces ;  for  an  awful  visitor  had  entered 
unseen,  unheard,  unannonnccd.  Death,  grim  and 
relentless,  had  been  in  their  midst;  and  in  one  of  the 
upper  rooms  my  lady  lay  cold  and  rigid,  and  lifeless. 
She  had  never  been  loved  by  one  in  the  place.  She  was 
not  regretted.  There  was  not  a  creature  living  to  drop 
a  tear  to  the  memory  of  the  hard,  cruel,  haughty,  over- 
bearing mistress  of  Black  Monk's ;  but  its  appalling 
suddenness  stunned  them.  She  had  risen  that  morning 
in  her  usual  health.  She  had  eaten  her  breakfast  with 
her  customary  appetite.  Slio  had  not  evinced  the 
slightest  symptom  of  the  slightest  indisposition,  yet  now 
she  lay  in  her  room  a  corpse.  It  was  indeed  enough  to 
startle  the  most  stolid  among  them  ;  and,  clustered 
together  in  the  servants'  hall,  the  tragic  event  wjis  i)ro- 
foundly  discussed  in  all  its  bearings.  Mademoiselle 
RosinOj  the  French  maid,  deposed  how  the  tall  dark 
gentleman  had  followed  her  to  tiie  boudoir,  had  ordered 
her  away,  and  how  horribly  pale  my  lady  had  turned  at 
Bight  of  him.  Mademoiselle  was  of  opinion  that  the 
dark  gentleman  was  either  his  Satanic  Majesty,  or  death 
in  bodily  form,  for  no  one  had  ever  seen  my  lady  ulive 


IN    THE    DEATHROOM. 


877 


after  tliat.  The  two  rival  vilhigc  physicians  had  been 
sent  for  in  great  haste,  but  tliey  must  liave  come  too  late ; 
for  all  their  combined  elTorts  could  not  kindle  one  spark 
of  life  in  that  cold  breast. 

The  old  housekeeper  was  the  only  one  among  them 
who  had  seen  her,  and  that  excited  their  curiosity  all 
the  more.  It  was  r  crying  shame,  they  all  decided,  that 
Bhe  alone  should  have  the  handling  of  the  corpse  and 
the  entree  of  the  dcath-clianiber.  Then  there  were 
other  things  to  arouse  their  curiosity.  Tlie  tall  stranger 
whom  William,  the  coachman,  knew,  and  **  who  was  a 
foreign  gentleman  from  Spr.in  or  Rooshia,  and  was 
named  Mendez,  which  ho  st()])pcd  at  the  Black  Monk's 
Arms,  along  of  another  foreign  gent,  and  was  great  up  at 
ILizelwood,"  had  taken  his  departure  about  noon  ;  and 
the  housekeeper,  having  arranged  the  corpse  in  its  grave- 
clothes,  had  been  turned  out  of  the  room  by  my  lord, 
who  Avas  watching  by  the  dead  alone.  Then,  a  little 
after  sunset,  a  carriiige  had  driven  up  to  the  door,  and 
tlie  foreign  gentleman  had  alighted  with  tlirce  ladies. 
Two  of  the  ladies  wore  evidently  young,  though  their 
faces  were  hidden  behind  thick  vails.  The  third  was 
old,  and  ugly,  and  wrinkled,  and  bent  and  poorly 
dressed,  and   was  crying  and  moaning  pitifully,  and 


878 


THE    STORY    TOLD 


twisting  her  skinny  old  fingers,  and  wiping  her  bleared 
old  eyes  all  the  time  she  was  in  sight.  The  whole  four 
had  gone  up-stairs  to  that  room,  and  there  they  were 
now  ;  and  the  assembly  in  the  servants'  hall  could  make 
neither  top  nor  tail  of  the  whole  matter.  Some  inclined 
to  differ  from  Mademoiselle  Rosine  in  her  view  of  the 
case,  and  were  of  opinion  that  the  foreign  gentleman 
had  murdered  my  lady  in  cold  blood  ;  and  this  dismal 
view  of  things  was  about  agreed  upon  between  them, 
when  the  housekeeper  came  sweeping  down  upon  them, 
and  dispersed  them  about  their  business. 

And  how  was  it  in  that  chamber  of  death — tint  cham- 
ber of  horror  ?  The  gray  and  mystic  twilight  (the  only 
light  fitted  for  such  a  scene)  stole  drearily  in  through 
the  closed  curtains,  lingering  darkly  in  the  corners,  and 
brooding  darkest  of  all  in  that  corner  where  the  bed 
was.  A  white  sheet  covered  the  bed,  and  under  it  was 
tha  outline  of  a  stark  form  in  the  marble  rigidity  of 
death.  In  an  arm-chair,  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  but 
not  near  it,  Lord  Landsdownc  sat,  a  little  paler,  a  little 
graver  than  usual,  but  quiet  and  self-possessed.  The 
first  shock  of  horror  had  passed  away.  The  brief  explan- 
ation, which  had  shocked  and  horrified  him  more,  almost 
than  the  suicide  had  done,  was  past  too,  and  the  worst 


IN    THE    DEATUROOM. 


that  could  come  was  over.  There  had  been  no  lore 
many  a  day — there  could  be  no  sorrow  now.  It  wa« 
only  ghastly  and  appalling  to  think  of,  and  he  wauled 
to  forget  it  all  as  fast  as  possible  ;  to  go  far  from  Black 
Honk's,  and  remember  the  lust  few  years  only  as  hide- 
ous dream.  Crouching  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  rocking  to 
and  fro,  moaning  and  crying,  was  the  old  woman  ;  her 
hands  clasi)ed  round  her  knees,  and  her  dim  old  eyes  fixed 
piteouely  on  the  bed.  Yes,  there  was  one  human  being 
to  regret  Lady  L'lnd-sdowne — her  wretched  old  mother. 
On  a  gofa  by  the  window,  clinging  together,  white  and 
Startled,  two  young  girls  sat ;  two  so  strangely  alike 
that  the  resemblance  might  have  astonished  you.  The 
game  wealth  of  jetty  curls,  the  same  brilliant  black  eycE, 
the  same  dark,  clear  complexion,  the  same  regular 
features,  the  same  height  precisely,  in  all  things  the 
same  but  one — that  one  was  inexprcssion.  One  of  the  two 
had  a  strangely  cowed  and  subdued  look — a  shrinking,. 
frightened  manner,  the  result  of  long  years  of  hard 
treatment,  and  blows,  and  abuse.  Poor  Rosamond 
Hazelwood  !  The  whining  old  beldame  beside  the 
bed  could  have  told  a  pitiable  tale,  if  she  chose,  of  the 
life  she  had  led  the  granddaughter  she  stole. 

One  other  person  was  in  the  room,  walking  up  and 


8S0 


TTIE    STORY    TOLD 


down  with  restless  steps.  It  was  the  foreign  gentleman, 
who  was  telling,  in  the  twilight,  his  dark  and  tragical 
tale. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  he  was  saying,  "what  I  told  you 
was  all  Heaven's  truth.  Tliat  dead  woman  was  my  wile 
and  the  mother  of  these  girls  ;  and  I  am  no  Cuban, 
no  Scnor  Mendez,  hut  Conway  Ilazelwood,  and  the 
rightful  owner  of  the  estate  which  my  brother  Arthur 
now  holds.  Tliis  old  Avoman  is  the  mother  of  her  who 
bore  the  name  of  Lady  Landsdowne." 

"Yes,  I'm  her  mother  ;  her  poor,  forsaken,  broken- 
hearted old  motlier,"  the  old  Avoman  whispered ;  "  and 
I  never  knew  she  was  a  great  lady  like  this,  or  I  would 
have  come  here  long  ago.  Oh  dear  !  oh  dear  !  and  now 
she's  dead — and  piscned  herself  !" 

"I  have  committed  many  a  mad  deed  in  my  life," 
Mr.  Hazclwood  said,  "  but  that  marriage  of  mine  was 
the  crowning  madness  of  all.  With  half  a  dozen  hare- 
brained college  friends  I  went  to  a  New  England  village 
one  summer,  to  fish  and  shoot,  and  Ave  took  it  into  our 
heads  to  go  under  assumed  names.  I  took  that  of  my 
mother's  family,  Forrest,  and  Ave  stopped  at  the  village  ' 
inn,  kept  by  this  old  woman  and  her  husband." 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes  !"  shrilly  put  in  the  old  Avoman  her- 


IN    THE    DEATIIROOM. 


881 


self,  "  a  lot  of  high- flyers,  and  Captain  Forrest  the  worst 
of  all — turning  the  silly  heads  of  the  girls,  and  drinking 
and  carousing  till  all  hours  of  the  night.  I  warned 
Rose,  but  she  always  wanted  to  be  a  lad}',  and  now  she's 
dead  !     Oh  dear,  dear,  dear !" 

"She  ,  '.s  pretty,  very  pretty,"  Mr.  Hazelwood  went 
on,  glancing  slightly  at  the  bed,  "and  I  believed  her  as 
good  and  as  innocent  as  she  was  beautiful.  Still,  in  my 
senses  I  should  never  have  married  her,  for  I  never 
really  got  beyond  admiration  of  the  fascinating  little 
barmaid ;  but  I  was  mad  with  liquor  and  altogether 
reckless  when  the  thing  was  done.  It  was  indeed  marry 
in  haste  and  repent  at  leisure  with  me  ;  and  before  long 
I  found  out  she  was  as  corrupt  of  heart  as  fair  of  face. 
That  settled  the  question.  Mucli  as  my  chains  galled 
me,  I  might  have  been  true  to  her  but  for  that.  I  left, 
her ;  perhaps  I  did  wrong,  but  Ileaven  knows  I  had 
good  cause.  She  did  not  know  my  real  name ;  I  hoped 
she  never  would.  I  sent  her  money  plenty,  and  I  never 
lost  sight  of  her.  Wlien  those  children  were  born,  I 
went  back ;  but  I  found  that  living  with  her  was  an 
impossibility — I  need  not  tell  you,  my  lord,  what  she  is  : 
she  has  made  your  life  a  curse,  as  she  has  mine — and  I 
left  her  again.     Then  came  that  other  marriage  I  told 


882 


THE    STORY    TOLD 


you  of  this  morning  ;  Helen  was  gentle,  and  loving,  and 
innocent;  and  I  really  loved  her,  as  she  did  me,  with 
hor  whole  heart.  I  was  wrong,  I  know  ;  I  knew  it  then, 
too,  but  more  than  love  led  me  on.  My  pride,  my 
honor,  her  happiness,  all  were  at  stake,  and  I  would  not 
pause.  I  resolved  to  provide  amply  for  Rose  ;  I  knew 
that  she  loved  money  a  thousand  times  more  than  she 
did  me,  and  to  take  my  children  from  hor.  She  was  no 
lit  guardian  for  anything  innocent ;  I  laid  my  plans  and 
succeeded.  I  placed  the  twin  infants  under  my  father's 
care ;  I  sent  her  an  ample  supply  of  money,  and  flat- 
tered myself  she  would  go  her  own  way  and  let  me  go 
mine. 

"My  lord,  how  terribly  I  was  mistaken,  you  know. 
What  I  have  already  told  you,  I  will  not  repeat ;  it  is 
not  fitted  for  the  cars  that  are  listening  now.  It  half 
maddens  me  yet  when  I  think  of  my  bride,  my  brother, 
my  father  I  To  that  father  I  told  all  before  I  fled  from 
my  native  land,  and  that  talc  was  his  death-warrant. 
For  years  I  was  a  wanderer,  and  t!ie  most  miserable  of 
men ;  I  went  to  the  East,  and  lost  sight  completely,  of 
America  and  all  I  had  left  behind.  In  Svria,  I  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  Senor  Mendez,  a  Cuban  planter  of 
immense  wealth  and  failing  health.     He  was  an  ec&en- 


IN    HIE    DEATIIIIOOM. 


888 


trie  old  man,  with  no  near  relatives ;  vfQ  became  fast 
friends  aud  traveling  companions,  and  at  his  death  he 
left  me  all  he  possessed.  I  went  to  Cuba ;  my  estate 
was  a  little  paradise  below  ;  and  for  a  few  more  years  I 
spent  a  tranquil,  idle,  indolent,  luxurious  life.  Then  I 
grew  tired  of  that,  too ;  I  came  back  to  Now  York. 
There,  under  the  name  I  had  assumed  with  the  estate,  I 
found  that  I  had  fallen  heir,  long  before,  to  llazulwood, 
where  my  brother  reigned  in  my  place  ;  that  one  of  the 
twin  infants  I  had  left  under  my  father's  care  had  been 
stolen  shortly  after,  and  had  never  been  heard  of  since, 
and  that  the  other  was  at  school  in  Canada.  I  came  to 
England  before  going  to  Canada ;  saw  my  brother  and 
cousin  Una,  without  being  recognized,  made  another 
tour  of  the  continent,  and  went  back.  This  time  1  did 
visit  Canada.  I  had  known  the  preceptress  of  the 
school  in  Cuba :  1  visited  her,  and  saw  Eve,  and  from 
that  time  I  never  lost  siglit  of  her.  When  she  was  sent 
•  for  to  come  here,  I  came  too.  I  accompanied  her  to 
Monkswood,  and  determined  to  remain  and  watch  over 
her.  The  very  evening  of  my  arrival,  as  I  stood  talk- 
ing to  her  at  Hazel  wood,  a  carriage  passed  us  and  a  lady 
looked  from  the  window.  I  recognized  the  face 
instantly  ;  it  was  one  I  had  good  reason  to  remember, 


384 


TUE    STORY    TOLD 


thongli  so  many  years  luid  passed  since  I  last  beheld 
it — it  was  tlio  the  face  of  tho  woman  I  thought  dead — 
of  Lady  Landsdowuc." 

"I  had  met  hor  in  France,"  Lord  Landsdowuo  said, 
helplessly,  "four  years  before.  She  was  nursery-gov- 
erness in  a  family  where  I  was  visiting,  and  I  don't  know 
how  it  was,  but  her  beauty,  and  her  winning  ways,  and 
^      sorrowful  looks — " 

■'Oh,  I  understand  it,"  Mr.  Uazolwood  said,  '*  thero 
never  was  a  better  actress.  You  married  her  as  I  did, 
and  found  out  the  diiloreucc.  Slie  did  not  see  my  face 
tluit  evening  ;  the  first  time  she  saw  mo  war,  that  stormy 
day  at  the  village-inn,  wlien  the  suddenness  of  tlic  shock 
overcame  even  her  iron  nerves,  and  she  shrieked  and 
fainted.  It  was  for  your  sake,  my  lord,  I  spared  her  ;  I 
would  have  spared  her  to  tin;  end  had  she  been  merciful 
to  her  own  child." 

"  Perhaps  she  did  not  recognize  her,"  Lord  Lands- 
dowuc said. 

**  She  did  recognize  her ;  she  told  me  so.  She  knew 
her  from  the  first,  and  Rosamond  and  her  mother  too. 
By  one  of  those  strange  freaks  of  fortune  that  astonish 
the  world  at  times,  this  old  woman  had  brought  Rosa- 
mond to  the  Canadian  village  .where  Eve  was  at  school. 


IN    THE    DEATH  ROOM. 


885 


Evo  was  recognized  by  Iier  grandmother  as  soon  as  seen  ; 
and  Paul  ScliafTcr  found  out  the  whole  story  from  her 
by  a  brilje,  and  resolved  to  make  use  of  it  for  his  own 
ends.  lie  was  the  open  lover  of  Hazel  Wood,  and  the 
secret  lover  of  Eve  ;  he  was  jealous  of  young  D'Arville, 
and  laid  a  jdot,  with  the  connivance  of  others,  to  frus- 
trate his  rival  and  compel  Eve  to  marry  him  in  spite  of 
herself.  Una  Forest,  who  should  have  been  Eve's  pro- 
tectress, joined  with  him  against  her.  You  see  the 
resemblance  Rose  and  her  sister  bear  to  each  other.  You 
could  scarcely  tell  them  apart  yourself,  my  lord.  Rose 
was  compelled  to  meet  Scliaffer  by  night  in  the  grounds 
of  IlazchvDod,  and  carefully  trained  in  the  jiait  she  was 
to  play  ;  D'Arville  was  brought  out  to  witness  the  per- 
formance ;  the  diabolical  plot  succeeded  to  perfection ; 
he  never  for  a  moment  dreamed  it  could  be  other  than 
Eve ;  and  in  the  first  impulse  of  outraged  pride  and 
love,  left  Ilazehvood,  without  one  word  of  explanation 
or  farewell. 

"Next  day,  Eve  was  driven  from  Hazelwood  by  the 
abuse  of  ^liss  Forest,  and  you  know  how  you  and  I 
found  her.  I  resolved  that  she  should  remain  hero 
until  her  mother  returned,  and   see  if  one  spark  of 

human  nature  lingered  in  her  hard  and  yindictive  heart. 
17 


886 


THE    STORY    TOLD 


You  know  better  than  I  do,  my  lord,  tlio  scene  wliich  fol- 
lowed. I  met  my  dauglitcr  flying  from  this  house,  as  she 
had  fled  from  Ilazehvuod  ;  and  then,  and  then,  and  not 
till  then,  I  told  her  \v'  I  was.  I  took  her  to  the  inn 
where  I  stopped  ;  I  found  out  Ihis  woman  and  my  other 
child  ;  I  brought  the  three  together  and  told  them  the 
tale  I  have  now  told  you.  That  was  the  Grst  part  of 
my  task  ;  my  second  was  one  of  retribution.  I  felt  no 
mercy,  no  compassion  now  for  her  who  lies  there  dead. 
I  came  here  this  morning  to  exact  justice  to  the  utter- 
most farthing.  You  should  have  heard  the  talo  before 
her,  and  the  cell  of  a  madhouse  should  have  been  her 
home  for  life,  had  she  not  taken  her  fate  in  her  own 
hand.  She  expected  mo,  and  was  prepared  ;  she  believed 
in  no  future  life,  she  was  weary  of  this,  and  so — " 

He  stopped  and  stood  looking  at  the  bed.  Lord 
Landsdownc  followed  his  glance  for  an  instant  and  then 
turned  away  with  a  slight  shudder. 

*'I  shall  leave  this  horrible  place  within  a  week. 
May  I  ask  what  is  to  bo  your  next  stop  ?" 

"Ketribution  still!  The  mercy  that  others  have 
shown  shall  bo  shown  unto  them.  Ilazelwood  is  to  be 
the  next  place  I  visit ;  and  Paul  SchaHer  and  Una 
Forest  will  find  out  that  the  game  is  not  all  in  their  own 


JUBILATE  ! 


887 


hands  ;  that  a  power  siipci'ior  to  tlioirs  is  at  work.  You 
muHt  1)0  Ihcro  to  witness  tho  family  reunion  tliaL  is  to 
take  place.  You  have  seen  Evo's  humili'^tion,  you 
mu.-it  also  see  her  triumph." 


^ 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

JUBILATE  I 

XD  so  there  was  a  funeral  at  Black  Monk's— a 
very  quiet  and  retiring  affair— and  the 
county  magnates  were  all  there,  with  con- 
dolences ;  and  manoeuvring  mammas  with  marriageable 
daughters  began  building  castles  in  tho  air  lor  their 
Laura  Matildas,  as  they  inspected  tho  broad  lands  of 
Black  Monk's  and  reflected  on  the  widowed  state  of  its 
master.  And  in  tho  family-vault  beneath  Monkswood 
church  there  was  another  coffin,  and  the  house  in  Bel- 
gravo  square  had  crape  on  tho  door,  and  among  the 
obituary  notices  in  the  Times  there  was  one  of  Rosa- 
mond, Lady  Landsdowne,  who  had  died  suddenly,  of 
congestion  of  the  brain  ;  and  then  it  was  all  over,  and 
the  county  magnates  went  home,  to  eat,  drink,  aud  he 


888 


JUBILATE! 


merry,  and  the  liandsomo  and  hauglifcy  lady  of  Black 
Monk's  was  out  of  tlic  world  and  forgotten. 

Among  the  gentlemen  who  had  attended  the  funeral 
procession  was  Mr.  Artliur  Ilazelwood,  of  Ilazelwood. 
It  had  been  a  good  deal  of  a  trial  to  that  human  snail 
to  crawl  out  of  his  shell ;  but  Miss  Forest,  with  hca* 
customary  clear-headed  foresight,  had  represented  so 
strongly  what  societ^^  in  general,  and  Lord  Landsdowne 
in  particular,  required  of  him,  that  he  had  been  morally 
dragged  from  his  sanctum  of  ease,  and  turned  out  in  the 
cold.  He  had  drawled  forth  his  regrets  in  most  gentle- 
manly fashion,  and  tried  as  much  as  in  him  lay  to  keep 
from  yawning  in  church  during  the  oration  and  burial- 
service  ;  and  then  he  had  shaken  hands  languidly  and 
under  protest  with  the  people  ho  knew,  and  gone  home, 
and  been  exceedingly  bored  by  it  all. 

It  would  take,  at  least,  six  months  of  undisturbed 
repose  to  recover  him  fully  from  the  shocks  his  delicate 
nature  had  lately  undergone.  There  was  the  arrival  of 
those  two  hoydenish  gii'io  from  Canada — Shock  Number 
One  ;  there  was  the  ungentlemanly  and  unbusinesslike 
flight  of  his  secretary — Shock  Number  Two  ;  there  was 
the  other  fliglit  of  one  of  tlie  girls — he  was  not  quite 
sure  which;  and  now,  hero  was  this  diaiuul  burning, 


JUBILATE! 


889 


wliich  had  upset  him  most  of  all.  Mr.  Hazelwood's 
nerves  were  iu  a  shattered  state  as  he  sank  into  an  easy- 
chair  next  morning,  and,  wrapping  his  gorgeous  dress- 
ing-gown around  him,  broke  his  first  egg.  It  was  half- 
past  twelve  ;  but  Mr.  Kazelwood  had  had  some  tea  and 
toast  in  bed,  so  he  was  not  quite  starving,  late  as  it  was 
his  biv.ukiust-hour.  Miss  Forest  there,  in  a  dainty 
morning-toilet,  looking  very  fair  and  pretty,  as  she 
poured  out  his  chocolate,  and  giving  no  sign  outwardly 
of  having  ever  loved,  or  suffered,  or  done  Avrong. 

**And  so  there  were  a  great  many  at  the  funeral, 
Artliur  ?"  she  was  saying,  "  Of  course — I  knew  there 
would  be  ;  and  just  think  how  it  would  look,  if  you,  the 
nearest  neighbor  of  all,  stayed  away.  Was  Senor  Mendez 
there  ?" 

"  Yaas,"  drawled  her  cousin  ;  "and  it  strikes  me,  I 
have  seen  that  man  somewhere  befo.,.,  His  face  looks 
familiar." 

"So  it  does,"  said  Una.  "  I  have  often  thought  so, 
too.  Ho  reminds  mo  of  Conway,  but  I  suppose  that  is 
nothing  but  fancy.     Was  Mr.  Sohaffer  there  ?" 

**  Oh  yes,  and  no  end  of  people.     Come  in." 

This  was  in  answer  to  a  rap ;  and  his  valet  made  his 
appearance,  bearing  two  cards  on  a  salver. 


890 


JUBILATE  I 


"  Senor  Mendez  and  Mr.  Schaffer,"  said  Una,  glanc- 
ing at  them.  "  Speak  of  tlio — You  know  the  old  prov- 
verb,  Arthur.     What  can  they  want  with  you  ?" 

"  They  want  to  bore  mo  to  death.  It  is  the  aim  of 
all  my  friends,"  Mr.  Ilazelwood  said,  helplessly."  1  sup- 
pose I  must  sec  them.  Show  them  up,  Louis  :  Una, 
another  cup  of  chocolate." 

Before  IMiss  Forest  had  finished  pouring  out  the 
chocolate,  tlic  two  gentlemen  were  in  the  room ;  Sonor 
Mondcz  with  an  unusually  grave,  not  to  say  stern  face, 
and  Mr.  Sehailer  loolviiig  rather  puzzled  and  at  a  loss. 
Miss  Forest,  bowing  distantly,  was  about  to  depart, 
when  Senor  Mendez  interposed. 

"Pardon,  madam,"  he  said,  gravely;  "but  the  busi- 
ness which  brings  mo  hei'o  tliis  morning  concerns  you 
as  Avell  as  Mr.  Ilazelwood.  So  you  will  have  the  good- 
ness to  favor  us  with  your  presence  for  a  few  moments." 

Una  flashed  an  alarmed  glance  at  Paul  Schaffoi' ;  but 
that  gentlemen's  assuring  look  said,  as  plainly  as  words  : 

"I  know  nothing  about  it,  I  assure  you.  It's  all 
Greek  to  me." 

Mr.  Ilazelwood,  who  had  been  beating  the  devil's 
tattoo  with  his  spoon,  dropped  it  and  his  jaw  at  the  men- 
tion of  the  appalling  word  **  business." 


JUBILATE  1 


891 


'^Business!"  he  faintly  echoed.  " My  dear  fellow, 
you  must  be  mistaken  !  "What  business  can  you  possibly 
have  with  me  ?" 

*•'  A  good  deal,  as  you  will  find  out  presently,"  said 
Scnor  Mcndcz,  helping  himself  to  a  chair  and  drawing 
off  his  gloves  ;  "and  wo  will  proceed  to  it  at  cnce.  Mr. 
Schaffer,  there  is  a  cluiir  ;  pray  be  seated.  Miss  Forest. 
The  matter  may  detain  us  some  time.'' 

But  Miss  Forest  standing  by  the  window  looking  out, 
chose  to  pay  no  heed  to  the  invitation.  She  was  watch- 
ing a  carriage  driving  up  the  avenue — the  carriage  of 
Lord  Landsdowne.  AYliat  could  possibly  be  bringing 
him  to  Ilazclwood  ? 

"ilr.  Arlhur  Ilazclwood,"  Scnor  Mendez  began,  lean- 
ing forward  and  transfixing  that  bewildered  gentleman 
with  his  dark  oaglo-cyo,  "  may  I  ask  how  long  it  is  since 
you  inherited  tliis  estate  ?" 

"Scnor  Mendez  !"  cried  Miss  Forest,  facing  suddenly 
and  sliarply  around,  "what  business  is  that  of  yours?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Forest,  my  question  was 
addressed  to  your  cousin  !  Will  you  bo  kind  enough  to 
answer,  !^^r.  TLizelwood  ?" 

"  It  is  nearly  sixteen  years  ago,"  said  Mr.  Ilazclwood, 
looking  more  and  more  helpless  and  bewildered. 


893 


JUBILATE! 


**  It  was  left  by  au  uncle,  was  it  not,  to  tlie  next  of 
kin  ?'» 

"Yes." 

"  Were  you  the  next  of  kin  ?" 

**Ya-as." 

"Indeed  !  I  fancied  you  had  an  elder  brother,  Con- 
way.   The  estate  fell  to  him,  I  should  think — did  it  not  ?" 

Una  Forest  fairly  bounded,  and  stilled  a  cry,  in  its 
birth,  as  she  looked  wildly  at  the  speaker,  but  the  obtuse 
Arthur  was  still  "  far  wide." 

"He  was  away — nobody  knew  where,  and  ho  has 
never  been  heard  of  since.  He  is  probably  dead  long 
ago." 

Senor  Mendez  rose  from  his  chair,  his  commanding 
form  drawn  up  to  its  fullest  height. 

"  He  is  not  dead,  Mr.  Arthur  Hazel  wood.  He  is 
alive  and  here  to  claim  his  own  I  I  am  Conway  Hazel- 
wood  1" 

The  master  of  Ilazelwood  rose  from  his  chair,  white 
as  a  sheet,  and  perfectly  speechless.  Tliere  had  been  an 
exclamation  from  Paul  Schaffer  ;  and  Una  Forest  stood 
grasping  a  chair,  her  lips  apart,  the  eyes  dilating,  in 
silence  they  all  stood,  the  two  brothers  confronting  each 
other  across  the  table. 


JUBILATE  1 


Wi 


**  Yes,  I  am  Conway  llazlowood,"  the  ci  devant  Onlkui 
repeated,  "  and  I  come  to  demand  an  account  of  jmbjt 
gtewardahip,  Artiuir.  Oh  you  need  not  stare  bo!  I  cjiaai 
euaily  prove  my  identity  !  Look  here — do  you  ixntiTr 
this  ?  You  ought  to,  since  it  is  some  of  your  ■drvm 
handiwork  !" 

Ue  lifted  the  clustering  dark  hair  from  his  tfmjftsv 
and  showed  a  long  purple  scar.  Arthur  gave  a  ary  -m 
he  saw  it. 

"  Conway  !  Can  it  indeed  be  you  ?  How  ct  11  I 
have  been  so — " 

"  Stupid  !  very  true,  but  then  you  know  Aniiuur, 
you  never  could  see  very  far  into  a  millstone.  I  itrnDy 
wonder  our  bright-eyed,  sharp-sighted  little  Unu  ifiiil 
not  recognize  me  from  the  first !" 

**  I  wonder  at  it  now  myself,"  Una  said,  commg  fw- 
ward  ;  "but  we  all  thought  you  dead;  0  Couway  l  Wh\M 
a  fiurpriso  this  is  !" 

"Isn't  it!  You're  glad  to  see  me  I  Bcjijruiig 
Una?" 

"You  know  I  am,"  she  said  holding  out  Lct  liamti; 

but    the    blue    eyes    shifted    and     fell    in     lie     (oM 

way,   as  she  spoke.     "  Why  did  you  not  tell  ii8  Iflffig 

ago?" 

17* 


8M 


JUBILATE! 


"  Because  I  al^-ajs  was,  and  will  be  an  oddity — ^I 
suppose !  Well,  Mr.  SchafEcr,  you  are  staring  very 
hard,  wliat  do  you  make  of  all  this  1" 

"  Upon  my  honor  1"  said  Mr.  SchafEer,  in  all  candor, 
**I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it,  unless  you  are  pri- 
Tately  rehearsing  theatricals.  It  all  seems  exceedingly 
like  it !" 

"All  the  world's  a  stage  and  all  the  men  and  women 
merely  iilayors,"  quoted  Mr.  Conway  Ilazelwood.  "  Your 
part  in  the  performance  will  come  in  presently  !  Well, 
Arthur,  old  boy,  you  are  quite  satisfied  I  am  myself, 
and  nobody  else  ?  Your  brother  Conway,  and  no 
ghost  ?" 

"  I  cannot  doubt  it !  But  where  in  the  world  have 
you  been  all  this  time  ?" 

"  Never  mind  that !  It  is  my  time  to  ask  questions 
now — yours  may  come  by-aud-by.  Arthur,  where  is  my 
daughter  ?" 

"Your  what  ?"  gasped  Mr.  Arthur,  aghast. 

"My  daughter  !  If  you  don't  know  Eve  Ilazclvvood 
is  my  daughter,  Una  docs.    Una,  where  is  she  ?" 

"  She  your  daughter  1  Then  poor  Eugene  was 
right  1" 

"  Tc  be  sure  he  was,  as  you  knew  many  a  day  ago — 


JUBILATE! 


805 


as  my  father  know,  and  as  the  paper  lie  left  for  her  and 
her  sister  on  lii.s  dcatlibed  will  prove.  Dr.  Lance  told 
mo  about  tliat — lie  told  mo  then  how  Rosic  was  stolen 
whou  ati  infant,  Ijy  a  person  or  persons  unknown.  But 
Eve  was  not  stolen — Avherc  is  she — she  may  be  glad  to 
find  a  father  ?" 

Paul  SulialTc'r  drew  suddenly  back,  and  then  looked 
down. 

"  Conway,  I  am  sorry — I  am  very  sorry — but  she  is 
not  here  !" 

"Not  here  !    "Where  then  is  she  ?" 

"That  I  cannot  tell.  You  had  better  ask  Mr. 
SchaCEer  !" 

'« What  has  Mr.  Schaffer  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"A  great  deal,"  said  he,  very  boldly;  "as  poor 
Hazel  Wood  could  testify  if  she  were  here." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"  Hazel  ?  sick,  poor  child  !  She  has  been  very  ill 
ever  since  Eve  ran  away.  Perhaps  I  was  a  little  severe 
with  her,  but  it  was  for  her  good  1" 

"  What  had  she  done  ?" 

"  She  was  engaged  to  Mr.  D'Arville — she  gave  him 
to  understand  she  loved  him,  yet  we  saw  her  steal  out  to 
meet,  by  night,  and  by  stealth,  Mr.   Schaffer  in  the 


390 


JUBILA  TE! 


Ilil 


Ilil 

p  - 


m\ 


grounds.  The  sight,  and  the  words  he  heard,  her 
perfidy  confirmed  by  her  own  lips,  drove  D'Arville  from 
the  house.  I  reproached  lier  next  day,  as  I  felt  it  my 
duty  to  do,  and  she  ran  away  in  a  passion,  and  we  have 
never  seen  her  since." 

Conway  Iluzelwood  turned  to  Paul  Schaffer. 

"  Is  this  true,  ^[r.  Schaffer  ?" 

"It  is,"  he  answered,  unflinchingly. 

"Did  Eve  Hazelwood  hold  nocturnal  inteiwiews  with 
with  you  in  the  grounds  ?" 

"  She  did  !" 

"  What  was  she  to  you  ?" 

"  My  beti'othed  wife  before  we  ever  left  Canada !" 

"  She  must  have  been  a  reckless  flirt  then  !  How 
came  she  to  be  also  engaged  to  Monsieur  D'Arville  ?" 

"It  was  only  to  win  a  foolish  wager  made  with  my 
cousin  Kate.  She  never  cared  a  jot  for  him  ;  she  told 
me  so  herself." 

"I  heard  her,"  chimed  in  Una,  "and  so  did  Mon- 
sieur D'Arville  and  Hazel  Wood." 

"But  she  may  have  told  him  the  same  story  of  you. 
Perhaps  she  was  only  flirting  with  both  of  you.  Was 
it  the  first  time  she  had  met  you  like  this,  or  was  she  in 
the  hi^bit  of  it  ?" 


JUBILATE! 


397 


Mr.  Schailor  hesitated. 

"  Speak  out  !"  Mr.  Ilazclwood  said,  "  I  am  her 
fatlicr  and  have  a  right  to  know.  Was  it  the  first 
time  ?" 

"No." 

"  Slio  was  in  the  habit  of  it,  then.  But  why  was 
secrecy  necessary  ?" 

"  Slio  did  not  wish  to  arouse  the  suspicions  of  WA  f- 
ville.  Slic  wanted  to  make  sure  of  him  and  win  her 
bet." 

**  Ah  !  I  see.  But  is  it  not  strange  that  after  leaving 
here,  she  did  not  ily  to  you  ?" 

"  That,  I  confess,  is  the  strangest  part  of  it.  But 
there  is  no  accounting  for  a  girl's  whims." 

"  Very  true.  And  Monsieur  D'Arvillo  saw  you  meet 
her  in  the  grounds." 

"He  did,"  said  Una.  "Wo  were  out  searching  for 
a  purse  I  had  lost,  and  came  by  chance  upon  tliem. .  I 
am  convinced  the  fault  was  not  Mr.  SchafTor's  but  hers. 
The  secret  meeting  it  appears,  was  her  wish." 

**  A  very  odd  wish,  too,  I  should  think,  not  to  say 
improper ;  and  you  did  quite  right,  Una,  to  scold  her 
for  such  conduct.     Will  you  excuse  mo  a  moment  ?" 

Ho  was  gone  before  they  could  speak,  and  back  again 


898 


JUBILATE! 


directly,  buh  not  alone.  T\Ionslenr  Claude  D'Arvillo  was 
witli  him.  Una  suppressed  an  exclaniation,  Mr.  Schaf- 
fer  an  oalli,  while  Mr.  Arthur  Ilazt'lwood  sat  with  mouth 
and  eyes  agape,  utterly  bewildered  by  it  all. 

"Monsieur  D'Arvillc,"  said  Mr.  Uazelwood,  "before 
you  left  this  place,  over  a  wcelc  ago,  were  you  engaged 
to  Mi^^s  Eve  Uazelwood  ?" 

"  Ycf,"  said  Monsieur  D'Arville,  "I  was." 

"  AVIiy,  then,  did  you  leave  her  as  you  did  ?" 

"  Because  I  discovered  her  to  be  false.  Miss  Forest 
lost  her  purse,  and  I  went  out  witli  her  one  niglit  to 
seek  for  it  in  the  grounds,  and  there  I  discovered  Evo 
and  Mr.  Selialler  together.  I  lieard  her  tell  him  she 
loved  him  only  ;  that  she  only  laughed  at  me,  and  had 
drawn  mo  on  to  win  a  bet.  IIow  could  I  stay  after 
that  ?" 

"  Not  very  well.  You  arc  quite  sure  that  it  was  Evo 
you  saw  ?  Might  you  not  be  mistaken  in  the  moon- 
light ?" 

"Hardly.  It  was  her  voice,  her  face,  and  tlien  her 
allusion  to  myself.  OIi  no  ;  a  mistake  was  impossible  ! 
Miss  Forest  and  Miss  Wood  recognized  her,  as  well 
as  I." 

"And  that  was  the  cause  of  your  leaving  ?" 


JUBILA  TE  f 


809 


"It  was." 
^        "Of  course,  you  dcspisc  her  now  ?    You  do  not  caro 
in-  her  any  more  ?" 

"  Mr.  Uiizehvood — since  such  is  your  naai.c — when  a 
man  really  loves,  lie  docs  not  forget  so  easily.  I  still 
love  her  as  much  as  ever." 

"  Tlicn  we  will  let  her  speak  for  herself,"  said  Mr. 
Hazclwood,  opening  the  door.     "Come  in,  Eve." 

Another  astonisher !  "Was  Conway  Ilazelwood  a 
magician  ?  In  answer  to  his  call,  Eve  Hazel  wood  en- 
tered dressed  in  white,  but  wrapped  in  a  long  dark 
miiiitlo,  and  wearing  a  hat.  She  looked  pale  and  agi- 
tated, but  her  glance  went  fearlessly  round  the  room. 

"Miss  Ilazelwood,  give  an  account  of  yourself. 
Were  you  ever  engaged  to  either  of  these  gentlemen  ?" 

"Yes,  father,"  Eve  clearly  and  distinctly  said,  the 
name  coming  very  sweetly  from  her  lips. 

"Are  you  sure  you  were  not  engaged  to  both  ?" 

"  Quite  sure." 

"  To  which  of  them,  then,  M^ere  you  betrothed  ?" 

"  To  Monsieur  D'Arville," 

"Did  you  love  him.  Eve  ?" 

Eve's  pale  face  flushed,  and  her  sweet  voice  faltered 
a  little. 


400 


JUBILATE  I 


**  Yes,  fjither,  with  ull  my  heart." 

**  Wore  you  not  also  cngagod  to  Mr.  Schaffcr  ?" 

**  Never,  father,  iu  all  my  life." 

"Eve,"  Mr.  Schaffcr  began,  reproachfully;  but  Mr. 
Hazelwoofl  interposed  : 

"You  have  had  your  say,  Mr.    Schaffcr;  let  the 
young  lady  have  her3,no\v.  Did  you  ever  lovo  him,  Evo  ?" 

Oh,  the  Hash  that  leaped  from  Eve's  black  eye,  and 
the  indignant  llusli  that  Ilamed  in  her  cheeks.        ^ 

"Love  him? — lovo  him?  I  always  detested  him, 
and  always  shall,  as  long  as  I  live." 

**  Very  good.  Uow  came  you  then  to  meet  him  by 
night,  in  the  grounds  ?" 

"  I  never  met  him." 

**  Never  in  all  your  life  ?" 

**  Never  in  all  my  life.     I  would  have  died  first  1" 

"Eve  !  Evo  !"  cried  Miss  Forest,  but  again  Mr.  Ilaz- 
elwood  interposed. 

"  Wait,  if  you  please,  Miss  Cna,  tliere  is  another  wit- 
ness to  be  heard.     Come  'n,  Mrs.  Western." 

He  opened  the  door  again,  and  this  time  there  entered 
the  bent,  and  skinny,  and  disagreeable-looking  old  lady, 
who,  many  a  year  ago,  wanted  to  tell  Una  Forest  her 
fortune. 


JUBILATE! 


401 


"Mrs.  Western,"  suid  Mr.  Iliuolwood,  "just  cast 
your  cyo  rouud  the  room  and  see  if  you  know  iiny  one 
here." 

"I  know  liim !"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  shrilly, 
pointing  to  Mr.  Schallor  ;  I  know  him  very  well." 

"  She  lies  !"  cried  !llr.  ScluilTer,  white  with  rage  and 
fear.     "I  never  saw  her  hcforo  in  my  life." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  did,  though,"  said  the  old  lady  exult- 
ingly  ;  "yes,  youdid,  thougii  !  You  saw  mo  in  Canada, 
you  know,  and  you  saw  my  Iiosic,  too,  as  was  tlio  very 
imago  of  the  pretty  young  lady  in  the  boarding-school 
that  you  Avcro  in  lovo  with  ;  and  hero  she  is  now,  her 
own  self.  Yuu  jjaid  our  pa.«.sage  over  to  England — mine 
and  llosie's,  you  know — and  you  made  us  keep  out  of 
siglit,  down  in  tho  village  there,  until  yon  should  want 
us,  you  said.  Then  you  came  one  night,  and  told  us 
you  were  going  to  play  a  trick  on  some  one,  and  Kosie 
must  dress  herself  up,  and  meet  you  in  the  grounds  of 
Hazelwood,  by  moonlight,  and  you  were  to  make  love  to 
her,  and  she  was  to  make  love  to  you.  You  had  it  all 
down,  in  black  and  white,  what  you  wore  both  to  say  ; 
and  you  called  her  Eve,  and  she;  was  to  toll  you  she  loved 
no  one  but  you,  and  that  she  was  only  fooling  Monsieur 
D'Arville  there  !    Oh,  you  ueedu't  look  so  blank,  Mr. 


408 


JUBILATE! 


ScliafTer,  it's  all  Gospel  truth  ;  and  Rosie  went,  and  you 
brought  her  homo  afterward,  and  gave  me  five  golden 
guineas  for  my  trouble.  You  never  were  stingy  about 
your  money  ;  I'll  say  that  for  you." 

"  It  is  false  !"  Paul  Schaffor  cried,  white  to  his  very 
lips  ;  "the  old  hag  lies  !  Is  it  likely  there  should  exist 
another  in  the  world  so  like  Eve  as  to  deceive  Monsieur 
D'Arville,  Miss  Forest  and  Hazel  "Wood  ?  I  tell  you  it 
is  a  fabrication,  from  beginning  to  end !  Such  a 
resemblance  would  be  impossible  !" 

*'Eve,*'  Mr.  Ilazelwood  said,  turning  quietly  to  his 
daughter,  "go  and  fetch  in  your  sister,  and  do  not  bo 
long.  Xo,  Mr.  Schaffer  ;  you  must  not  leave  just  yet," 
as  that  gentleman  made  a  motion  to  quit ;  "  please  stay, 
and  see  the  play  out.     Eve  will  be — ah  !  here  she  is  !" 

There  Avas  a  general  exclamation,  altogether  irrepres- 
sible, and  Sir.  Arthur  Ilazelwood  gave  a  faint  cry  of 
intcusest  amazement,  not  to  say  consternation  ;  for  this 
time  there  entered  two  Eves,  and  which  was  the  one 
that  had  gone  out,  he  could  not,  had  the  fate  of  worlds 
depended  on  it,  have  told.  The  mantle  and  hat  had 
been  dropped,  and  the  two  girls  stood  arrayed  in  flowing 
gossamer  white,  their  long  black  ringlets  falling  like 
a  sable  cloud  over  their  shoulders.     The  same  iu  height, 


JtTBILATE! 


403 


in  feature,  in  dross  ;  in  everything ;  the  resemblance  was 
more  tlian  astonishing — it  was  marvelous. 

Mr.  Hazel  wood  looked  at  the  twin  sisters,  standing 
hand-in-hand,  with  downcast  eyes,  and  a  smile,  exultant 
and  triumphant,  lit  up  his  swarthy  face. 

**Xow,  Monsieur  Scluiffcr,  what  say  you  to  this? 
Tell  me  which  is  Eve,  now,  if  you  can  ?" 

Monsieur  Schaffer  said  nothing;;  lie  only  glanced  at 
the  twin  sisters  witli  tlic  eyes  of  a  bullied  tiger.  With 
his  own  weapons  ho  had  been  foiled. 

"Can  any  one  tell  mc  which  is  Eve  ?"'  Mr.  Hazel- 
wood  inquired,  looking  from  face  to  face;  '"'Monsieur 
D'Arville,  I  leave  it  to  you  !" 

Ah  !  whai,  resemblance  can  bafllo  love,  blind  though 
it  be  !  Over  one  face,  drooping  and  downcast,  a  blush 
and  a  smile  was  dawning.  That  was  the  face  of  his 
darling.  The  likeness  might  bafllo  others — it  never 
could  l)afllo  him  again  ;  the  faces  Avcre  the  same  in  every 
iota,  but  the  world  held  only  one  Eve  for  him.  Ho  was 
beside  her  in  a  moment,  with  outstretched  hands. 

"Eve  I"  he  exclaimed,  "can  you  ever  forgive  mc  ? 
I  have  been  cruel,  unjust,  and  ungenerous,  but  think 
how  they  deceived  mo  I  I  do  not  deserve  pardon,  but 
still  I  hope  I" 


404 


JUBILATE! 


"  lEopo  on,  liope  ever  !"'  Eve  said,  briglitly,  laying 
both  hands  in  his  ;  "  I  forgive  you  and  every  one  else  on 
this  happy  day  1" 

"  That's  very  good,"  said  ifr,  ILizchvood,  stroking 
his  mustache;  "I  thought  you  would  find  out  Eve, 
Monsieur  D'Arvillo  !  And  now,  llo.^c,  I  think  you  have 
a  word  to  say.  Did  yon  ever  see  tliat  gentleman  there 
before  ?" 

lie  pointed  to  Paul  Schaffcr,  and  the  young  girl 
shrunk  an'ay,  visibly  with  tlie  same  cowed  and  fright- 
ened look. 

"Oh  yes,"  she  said,  clinging  to  lier  fatlier,  "I  have 
seen  liim  often." 

"Where  ?  Speak  out,  Rosio  ;  no  one  shall  hurt  you 
now." 

"I  saw  him  in  Canada,  first.  lie  brought  grand- 
mother and  I  to  England,  and  used  to  visit  us  often  in 
the  village." 

"Did  you  ever  meet  him  anywliere  besides  in  the 
village?" 

"Once,  in  the  grounds  here.  It  was  one  moonlight 
night  last  week,  lie  called  mo  Eve,  and  ho  made  me 
say  that — " 

"That  you  loved  him,  ch  ?" 


JUBILATE! 


405 


"  Yes,"  Rose  said,  coloring,  "and  a  great  many  other 
things  I  did  not  like." 

"That  will  do.  And  now,  my  lord,  what  say  you  to 
all  this?" 

Mr.  Hazclwood  turned  to  the  half-open  door,  where 
two  gentlemen  had  been  standing,  unobserved  lookers 
on.  Both  advanced  with  the  Avords  he  spoke,  and  onG 
■was  Lord  Landsdowno,  the  other  the  vicar  of  the  par- 
ish. 

"It  is  more  like  the  last  act  of  a  drama  than  a  scene 
in  every-day  life,"  answered  his  lordship;  "  it  seems  to 
have  been  diamond  cut  diamond  all  through  the  piece." 

"A  most  surjirising  affair  truly,"  said  the  clergyman, 
looking  through  his  spectacles  at  the  twin  sisters;"! 
should  never  know  one  of  these  young  ladies  from  the 
other.  As  his  lordship  remarks,  it  is  more  like  a  drama 
than  anything  else." 

"And  dramas  always  ended  in  marriages  in  my  thea- 
ter-going days,"  said  ^Ir.  Hazclwood;  "so  suppose  we 
be  consistent  to  the  end.  Mr.  Vicar,  get  your  book. 
My  lord,  will  you  be  best  man  ?  Ko.sc  will  be  bridcmaid, 
and  I  am  here  in  parentis  to  give  the  bride  away.  I  am 
sure  Mr.  Schaffer  and  Miss  Forest  will  be  delighted  to 
witness  uu  impromptu  wedding,  even  though  there  be  no 


400 


A    PARTING    PEEP. 


breakfast.      Stand  forward,  D'Arville.      Make  sure  of 
Eve  this  time,  lest  you  should  lose  her  again." 

It  was  all  so  stirringly  sudLlon.  that  neither  Paul 
Schaffer  nor  Una  Forest  could  do  other  thon  look  on, 
and  wonder  wliether  they  were  awake  or  asleep.  The 
vicar  produced  book  and  stole.  Claude  D'xVrville  step- 
ped forward,  holding  Evo  by  the  hand.  Rose  and  Lord 
Landsdowne  took  their  places,  and  the  ceremony  began. 
"  Wilt  thou  take  ?"  etc.,  was  twice  asked,  and  answered, 
and  one  moment  there  were  no  longer  two  Miss  Hazel- 
woods  in  the  room,  for  one  of  them  was  Madame  Claude 
D'Arville. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


A  PARTING  PEEP. 


j^P^^l'ES,  they  were  married  ;  nothing  but  deatli 
-"*'■*-'  could  separate  tliem  more.  And  Mr.  Hazel- 
wood  turned  to  Paul  Scluillcr,  the  baffled 
plotter,  Avith  his  quiet  smile  of  ])ower. 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Schaffer,  our  life-drama  has  ended  like 
any  other  drama,  in  a  marriage  ;  the  villain  of  the  play 
has  been  foiled,  and  the  hero  and  heroine  reign  trium- 


J 


A    PARTING    PEEP. 


4{)7 


phant.  There  is  notliing  more  ;  the  curtain  m\i6t  IM. 
now  ;  and,  before  it  drops,  allow  me,  in  tlae  name  of  tkg 
company,  to  bid  you  u  very  good  morning  and  a  pleiis- 
ant  trip  baek  to  Canada.  Shall  I  ring  for  a  servant  i® 
show  you  out,  or  do  you  know  the  way  yourself  ?" 

"I  shall  save  you  the  trouble,  Mr.  (Jonway  Kazelwoo3« 
or  Scnor  3Iendcz,  or  whatever  your  name  may  be/'  aaiid 
Mr.  Sclmffer,  with  an  evil  sneer,  "and  I  beg  your  ])reMT 
daughter  to  understand  I  shall  not  die  of  a  broken  heaj-t, 
though  I  have  lost  her.  Farewell,  Miss  Forest,  I  imi 
sorry  for  you,  you  have  lost  your  love  as  well  as  L,  but 
let  the  ex-schoolmaster  go.  There  are  as  good  fish  :m 
the  i?ca,  you  know,  as  over  were  caught." 

He  wa3  gone  while  ho  spoke.  Eve  dared  not  look  aJ 
Una  ;  but  D'Arvillc  opened  his  eyes  to  their  widest  ei- 
tent,  83  he  fixed  them  on  her  striking  figure. 

"  What  docs  ho  mean  ?"  ho  slowly  asked,  "sui'eljli® 
alluded  to  me." 

Conway  Ilazehvood  laughed. 

"Xovcr  mind,  D'Arvillc  ;  you  have  got  all  yon  want, 
60  l>c  satisfied  and  ask  no  questions.  Look  up,  TJxtu; 
there  is  balm  in  Gilcad  yet,  and  we  will  let  bygoncB  'hs 
bygones  on  this  eventful  morning.  Won't  yoj  oome 
over  and  wish  Eve  joy  ?" 


403 


A    PARTING    PEEP 


She  dared  not  refuse.  But  the  whiie  face  had  never 
been  so  white  before,  and  the  lips  that  spoke  trembled. 
Eve's  embrace  was  as  pitj'iug  and  tendc:  as  it  was 
sincere. 

**We  will  always  be  friendvS,  Cousin  Una,"  she  said, 
"and  that  miserable  night  and  day  will  be  as  if  it  had 
nerer  been.     Where  is  Hazel  ?" 

*'In  her  own  room.  She  is  not  very  well,"  Una  said, 
extricating  herself  from  Eve's  arms,  and  shrinking  mto 
the  corner  again. 

"I  must  go  to  her,  Claude.  Poor  dear  Hazel!  I 
must  go  to  her  at  once." 

"  Not  just  at  once,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  D'Arvillc," 
said  her  father,  "we  have  not  quite  done  with  yon  yet. 
Just  take  this  paper,  and  when  you  have  cast  your  eye 
over  it,  pass  it  to  your  husband." 

Eve  took  the  formidable  legal  looking  document  he 
held  out. 

"  What  is  it  father  ?" 

*'  Your  wedding-portion,  my  dear.  A  free  gift  of 
Ilazelwood  to  you  and  Mr.  D'Arville !  There  I  no 
thanks  ;  I  don't  want  it.  I  infinitely  prefer  my  Cuban 
estate,  whither  I  am  going  next  week,  and  intend  taking 
Rose  with  me." 


A    PAUTIXO    PEEP. 


4M 


"And  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "Where  am  I  to  go  ?"  help- 
lessly began  Arthur  Ilazehvood. 

"  Very  true.  It  seems  rather  a  pity  to  turn  you  and 
Una  out,  doesn't  it  ?  Eve,  what  is  to  be  done  with  this 
uncle  and  cousin  of  yours  ?  The  place  is  your  own  now, 
and  you  must  decide." 

Then  let  everything  be  as  it  was  !  0  father  !  I  could 
never  be  happy  here  if  they  had  to  leave  it  to  make  room 
for  mo.  Uncle  Arthur,  Cousin  Una,  I  sliall  take  it  as 
the  greatest  favor  if  you  will  stay  here  always,  and  let 
tilings  go  on  for  the  future  as  they  have  done  in  the 
past." 

Mr,  Arthur  Hazelwood  looked  inexpresibly  re- 
lieved, and  Una  bowed  with  averted  face.  Truly  Eve 
was  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  her  head. 

"You'j'c  a  good  girl,  Eve,"  her  father  said  (and 
D'Arville  smiled  approval  too),  "and  it  shall  be  as  you 
say.  Little  Hazel  shall  come  with  Rose  and  me  to  Cuba 
and  we  will  teach  her  to  forget  that  scamp  Schaffcr." 

"I  should  like  to  go,  too,"  Eve  said,  wistfully.  "I 
don't  want  to  to  bo  separated  from  you  all  so  soon." 

"  You  ungrateful  little  minx  !  what  do  you  think  of 

that  speech,  Mr.  Bridegroom  ?" 

"  I  think  it  is  perfectly  natural,  monsieur  1    Eve 
18 


410 


A    PARTING    PEEP. 


will  be  very  lonely  here,  I  am  afraid,  if  you  carry  off 
her  sister  and  cousin  so  soon." 

"  And  I  want  to  see  Cuba  so  much,"  i^leadod  Eve, 
*'  and  Hazel  would  give  a  year  of  her  life  for  a  walk  down 
Broadway.     Let  us  go  with  you,  father — please  do." 

Nobody  could  resist  that  "please";  no  heart  lesa 
hard  than  the  nether  millstone,  the  kiss  that  accompanied 
it.  Mr.  Hazelwood  laughed,  and  pushed  her  back  to 
D'Arville.  "  There,  keep  her  to  yourself,  will  you. 
Yes,  come ;  you  may  as  well  make  your  wedding 
tour  there  as  anywhere  else.  See  that  your  furbelows 
are  packed  in  a  week,  though ;  for  this  day  week  pre- 
cisely wo  start  for  New  York,  from  thence  to  Havana. 
Now,  go  and  hunt  up  Hazel,  and  tell  her  the  news  as  fast 
as  you  like.  It  will  be  better  than  medicine  for  her,  I 
dare  say." 

"I  too  have  a  favor  to  ask,"  said  Lord  Laudsdowne, 
coming  forward.  "Are  you  overcrowded  now,  Mr. 
Hazelwood,  or  will  you  make  room  for  nie  ?  I  have 
long  wished  to  visit  America,  and  I  should  never  find 
the  trip  so  pleasant  as  now.  I  want  to  see  Cuba,  too  j 
will  you  make  room  for  me  ?" 

Mr.  Hazelwood  graspe  1  his  hand  heartily. 

**With  all  my  heart,  my  lord.    I  do  not  forget  the 


A    PARTING    PEEP. 


411 


debt  of  gratitude  I  owe  you  for  your  kindness  to  Eve. 
Come  with  us  by  all  means.  It  needed  only  your  pre- 
sence to  make  our  party  completo.  And  now  suppose 
we  adjourn  ;  I  see  by  Arthur's  face  we  are  boring  him  to 
death,  and  I  begin  to  feel  as  if  I  should  like  some  lunch- 
eon. Una,  if  you  will  see  to  it,  we  will  relieve  Arthur  of 
our  presence.    Gentlemen,  come." 


And  into  the  great  sea  of  the  past  two  more  waves, 
two  more  years,  have  been  ingulfed  forever.  One  last 
look,  dear  friend  of  mine,  ere  we  mentally  shake  hands 
and  part,  at  the  living,  breathing,  existing  figures,  that 
have  passed  before  our  magic  lantern  for  so  long. 

And  to  begin  at  the  very  end,  there  is  Mr.  Paul 
Schalicr.  If  you  ever  go  to  that  quaint  French  city, 
Montreal,  and  take  a  walk  down  Bonaventuro  street, 
you  will  sec  his  shingle  hanging  out  in  front  of  one  of 
the  most  stylish  offices  in  tlio  street,  Mr.  Schaffer  is  a 
rising  lawyer,  and  a  member  of  the  Canadian  legisla- 
ture, and  the  world  goes  very  well  indeed  with  him. 
He  told  Eve,  you  remember,  he  would  not  break  his 
heart ;  and  ho  has  kept  his  word.  He  has  a  handsome 
town-house,  and  a  villa  at  St.  Croix  ;  he  has  fast  horses, 
handsome  equipages,  well-dressed  and  well-trained  ser- 


418 


A    PARTING    PEEP. 


vants,  a  full  cellar,  full  coffers,  a  good  name,  aiiJ  givea 
the  best  diuner-parties  of  any  man  iu  Montreal,  lie  luis 
married  a  dashing  Canadian  IjIIo  and  heiress,  who 
thinks  ]iim  perfection,  or  next  door  to  it,  and  has  never 
heard  of  that  little  English  episode  in  his  life  that  hap- 
pened two  years  ago.  It's  not  the  rule  to  make  tlio  vil- 
lain of  tlie  story  happy  and  prosperous,  I  know,  and  I 
hate  to  do  it ;  but  truth  is  mighty  and  will  prevail.  Mr. 
Schaffer  was  flourishing  in  Montreal  the  last  time  I  was 
there,  and  his  success  is  no  fault  of  mine. 

Doctor  Lance  is  in  New  York,  training  the  ideas  of 
his  pupils  how  to  shoot,  and  crosser  than  ever.  He  has 
not  been  to  England  since,  but  he  talks  of  going  there 
next  long  vacation. 

And  in  England — oh,  there  are  happy  hearts  there  I 
In  all  broad  Essex  there  is  no  happier  home  than  Ilazel- 
"wood,  and  none  more  beloved  and  respected  by  all  than 
its  master  and  mistress.  Eve  ;  oos  singing  through  the 
house  all  day  long,  like  a  lark,  and  D'Arviilc  has  turned 
out  a  regular  gentleman-farmer,  and  takes  more  interest 
in  Durhams,  and  crops,  and  overseeing  his  estate  and 
his  tenants,  than  ever  ho  did  in  correcting  French  exer- 
cises and  Latin  themes,  in  his  days  of  professorship. 
There  is  something  else  he  takes  an  interest  iu  besides 


A     PARTTXa    PEEP. 


418 


fat  cattle,  and  that  is  in  a  fat  littlo  baby  with  big  black 
eyes,  that  half  a  year  ago  uttterod  its  first  squall  in 
Ilazolwood.  Tliey  call  it  Conway ;  and  Mr.  D'Arville 
thinks  there  never  was  nor  ever  will  bo  such  another 
baby  ;  an  opinion  in  which  ilrs.  D'Arville  fully  shares. 
Mr.  D'Arville  labors  also  under  the  impression  that  his 
dark-eyed  wife  never  looks  half  so  handsome  as  when 
she  bends  over  that  little  cradle  and  sings  its  small  in- 
mate asleep  ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  ho  is  right. 

Mr.  Arthur  Hazclwood  still  drags  out  life  in  his  own 
way,  as  much  like  a  snail  in  its  shell  as  ever  ;  and  Miss 
Forest  flits  like  a  littlo  white  ghost  from  room  to  room, 
Bhod  with  the  shoes  of  silence.  She  is  thinner  than  of 
yore,  and  the  fair  hair  seems  to  have  faded  white;  but 
whether  she  is  happy  or  whether  she  suffers,  she  is  not 
one  to  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeve,  and  no  one  will  ever 
know. 

And  at  Black  Monk's  there  is  a  new  Lady  Lansdowne 
— a  very  different  lady  from  the  last.  Her  present  lady- 
ship is  a  plum,  hazel-eyed,  hazel-hairod,  laughing  little 
peeress,  who  answers,  moreover,  to  the  name  of  Hazel. 
Yes,  indeed  !  that  she  is  ;  and  she  and  Lord  Lands- 
downe  are  like  turtle-doves,  and  Black  Monk's  is  a  very 
different  place  to  the  Black  ilonk's  of  two  years  ago. 


414 


A    PART  IN  a    PEEP. 


TIic  great  event  huppenccl  while  they  were  in  Cuba,  anil 
Hazel  has  not  quite  got  used  to  being  called  "  My  Lady" 
yet;  but  she  thinks  it  all  very  delightful,  and  trifs  to 
be  stately  and  dignified,  but  the  hap])y  smiles  will  come 
in  spite  of  her,  and  Lady  Landsdowne  will  bo  ILizcl 
Wood  to  the  end  of  the  chai)ter. 

Mr.  Conway  Ilazelwood  resides  on  his  Cuban  estate, 
but  he  has  been  to  England  to  see  his  little  namesake, 
and  he  has  made  his  will,  and  left  Master  Conway  D'Ar- 
ville  everything  ho  possesses.  He  is  not  an  old  man, 
but  he  never  will  marry — he  is  happy  enough  in  his 
peaceful  latter  life  to  atone  for  his  tragic  and  bereaved 
youth. 

Eose  is  in  Cuba  too,  the  bride  of  a  wealthy  creole 
planter,  and  a  near  nci'^iibor  of  her  father's.  Ilor  old 
grandmother  lives  with  her — Rose  has  an  affection  for 
her  notwithstanding  the  past,  and  the  old  lady  has  no 
call  any  more  to  tell  fortunes  for  a  living. 

Yes,  dear  reader,  they  are  all  happy,  and  so  we  will 
leave  them.  All,  perhaps,  except  one.  For  Una  Forest 
is  thirty-six  years  of  age,  and — 0  dreadful  fate  I — an  old 
maid  I 


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For  Each  Other.     Do i 

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Misoellaneons    Novels. 


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Saint  Leger— Richard  W.  Kimhall..§ 
Was  He  Successful  ?  ])o.     . 

Undercurrents  of  Wall  St.  I)o.  . 
Romance  of  Student  l^ilc.  Du.  . 
To-day.  Do    .. 

Life  in  San  Domingo.  Do.. 

Henry  Powers,  Banker.      l)o. 

Led  Astray-  ( )ct.ive  Keuillet 

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Thick  and  Thin-Mery 

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Loyal  unto  Death 

That  Awful  Boy 

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Charette— An  American  no\el 

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Hilt  to  Hilt.  D 

Out  of  the  Foam.        Do 

Hammer  and  Rapier.  Do ... 

Warv.ick- r.y  M.  T.  Walworth.. 


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Kenneth— SiUie  A 


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Heart  Hungry-  Wesinioieland 

Clifford  Tioupc.  Do 

Silcott  Mill— .Maria  D.  I.'eslonde. . . 
John   Maribel.  Do. 

Conquered— B\  a  Xew  .Ainlior 

Janet-All  Fn^lish  m  vel    

Tales  from  the  Popular  Operas.. 


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